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HISTORY OF ENGLAND
FROM THE
ACCESSION OF JAMES I.
TO
THE OUTBREAK OF THE CIVIL WAR
1603-1642
BY
SAMUEL R. GARDINER, D.C.L., TX.D.
tA.lt. J'ELl-OW OK MEUrON COLLEGE, O.M'OKU, ETC.
IN TEN VOLUMES
VOL. 1.
160 3-1607
NEW M/PEESS/ON
LONGMANS, GREEN, AND CO,
39 PATERNOSTER ROW, LONDON
NEW YORK AND BOMBAY
^905
A// rights re.^erve>i
PREFACE.
In issuing in a connected form the works which have been the
labour of twenty years, my attention has necessarily been called
to their defects. Much material has accumulated since the
early volumes were published, and my own point of view is
not quite the same as it was when I started with the first years
of James L I have therefore thoroughly revised and, in part,
rewritten the first portion of the book.
The time spent upon reviewing old work in the preparation
of this edition has, I trust, not been wholly lost. Especially in
the early volumes .«;omething has been done to assimilate new
information to the old, and to correct or tone down crude
reflections. Imperfect as every attempt of this kind must be,
from the impossibility of absolutely recasting the original
work, what I have to offer is, perhaps, not quite so imperfect
as it was, though I have become aware of a certain w'ant of
artistic proportion in the book as a whole, and can perceive
that some incidents have been treated of at greater length
than they deserve.
Something too has been gained by the opportunity afforded
me for reconsidering the whole ground on which I have taken
my stand. It is impossible to publish ten volumes of history
without being led to face the question whether the knowledge
acquired by the hi.storian has any practical bearing on the pro
blems of existing society — v^hethe^, in short, if, as has been
said, hisrory is the politics of the past, the historian is lik^y to
PREFACE,
VI
he able to give better advice than other people on the politics
of the present.
It does not indeed follow that if the reply to this question
were in the negative, the labour of the historian would be
wholly thrown away. All intellectual conception of nature is a
good in itself, as enlarging and fortifying the mind, which is
thereby rendered more capable of dealing with problems of life
and conduct, though there may be no evident ronnedion be-
tween them and the subject of study. Still, it must he acknow-
ledged that there would be cause for disappointment if it ('ould
be shown that the study of the social and polili(‘al life of men
of a past age had no bearing whatever on the social and pt>liti-
(.al life of the present.
At first sight indeed it might seem as if this were the c'nsc.
Certainly the politics of the seventeenth century, when studied
for the mere sake of understanding them, assume a very dif-
feient appearance from that which they had in the eyes of men
who, like Macaulay and Forster, regarded them through the
medium of their own political struggles. Kliot and Strafford
'were neither Whigs nor Tories, Liberals nor t'tmser\'ativcs,
As Professor Seeley was, I believe, the first to teat'h directly,
though the lesson is indirectly involved in every lino written by
Ranke, the father of modern historical researeli, tnc way in
which Macaulay and Forster regarded the development <if the
past— that is to say, the constant avowed or unavowed <'um-
parison of it with the present— is altogether destriu'tive (d' real
historical knowledge. Yet those who take the truer view, and
seek to trace the grotvth of political principles, may perltaps
find themselves cut off from the present, and may regret that
they are launched on questions so unfamiliar to themselves and
their contemporaries. Hence may easily arise a dissuti.sfaction
with the study of distant epochs, and a re.solution to attend
^ mai>sly to the most recent periods— to neglect, that is u> say,
PREFACE,
vii
the scientific study of history as a whole, through over-eagerness
to make a practical application of its teaching.
Great, however, as the temptation may be, it would be most
unwise to yield to it. It would be invidious to ask whether
the counsel given by historians to statesmen has always been
peculiarly wise, or their predictions peculiarly felicitous. It is
enough to say that their mode of approaching facts is different
from that of a statesman, and that they will always therefore
be at a disadvantage in meddling with current politics. The
statesman uses his imagination to predict the result of changes
to be produced in the actually existing state of society, either
by the natural forces which govern it, or by his own action.
The historian uses his imagination in tracing out the causes
which produced that existing state of society. As is always the
case, habit gives to the intelligence of the two classes of men
a peculiar ply which renders each comparatively inefficient for
the purposes of the other. Where they meet is in the effort
to reach a full comprehension of existing facts. So far as the
understanding of existing facts is increased by a knowledge
of the causes of their existence, or so far as the misunder-
standing of them is diminished by clearing away false analogies
sii}jposed to be found in the past, the historian can be directly
serviceable to the statesman. He cannot expect to do more.
I'he more of a student he is — and no one can be a historian
without being a very devoted student— the more he is removed
from that intimate contact with men of all classes and of all
modes of thought, from which the statesman derives by far the
greater part of that knowledge of mankind which enables him
to give useful play to his imaginative power for their benefit
If, however, the direct service to be rendered by the historian
to the statesman is but slight, it is, I believe, impossible to
over-estimate the indirect assistance which he can offer. If
ihc aims and objects of men at different periods arc diffwent,
PrilFACE.
viii
the laws inherent in human society are the same. In the nine-
teenth as well as in the seventeenth century, exi.sting evils are
slowly felt, and still more slowly remedied. In the nint'teenth
as well as in the seventeenth century, efforts to discover the
true remedy end for a long time in failure, or at least in very
partial success, till at last the true remedy appears almo.st by
accident and takes root, because it alone will give relief.
He, therefore, who studios the society of the past will be of
the greater service to the society of the pre.sent in proportion
as he leaves it out of account. If the exceptional statesman
can get on without much help from the historian, the historian
can contribute much to the arousing of a statesmanlike temper
in the happily increa.sing mass of educated persons without
whose support the statesman is powerIes.s. lie cun teach them
to regard society as ever evolving new wants and new (iiscans*,
and therefore requiring new‘reme(lie.s. He van teach them
that true tolerance of mistakes and follies which is perfectly
consistent with an ardent love of truth and wisdom. He can
teach them to be hopeful of the future, be<aiuse the e\il of
the present evolves a demand fur a remedy whu'h sooner or
later is discovered by the intelligence of mankind, thougfi it
may sometimes happen that the whole existing orguni.saticm of
society is overthrown in the process. He <'an leach them also
not to be too sanguine of the future, because (‘uch remedy
brings with it fresh evils which have m their turn to he fa<-ed,
Ihese, it may be said, are old and commonplac*: les.sons
enough. It may be so, but the world ha.s not yet Ixrome so
wise as to be able to dispense with them.
A further question may arise as to the mode in which this
teaching shall be conveyed Shall a writer lay dowi^ the results
at which he has arrived and sketch out the laws whiedj lie run-
ceives to have governed the course of society ; or shall he
wuh^ut forgetting these, make himself familiar, and strive to
PREFACE.
IX
make his readers familiar, with the men and women in whose
lives these laws are to be discerned ? Either course is pro-
fitable, but it is the latter that I have chosen. As there is a
danger of converting our knowledge either of past or present
society into a collection of anecdotes, there is also a danger of
regarding society as governed by external forces, and not by
forces evolved out of itself. The statesman of the present
wants perpetually to be reminded that he has to deal with actual
men and women. Unless he sympathises with them and with
their ideas, be will never be able to help there, and in like
manner a historian who regards the laws of human progress in
the same way that he would regard the laws of mechanics,
misses, in my opinion, the highest inspiration for his work.
Unless the historian can feel an affectionate as well as an
intelligent interest in the personages with whom he deals, he
will hardly discover the key to the movements of the society
of which they formed a part The statesman, too, will be none
the worse if, in studying the past, he is reminded that his
predecessors had to deal with actual men and women in their
complex nature, and if thereby he learns that pity for the
human i-ace which was the ins] firing thought of the New
Atlantis.^ and which is the source of all true and noble effort.
That my own work falls far short of the ideal w’hich I have
set before myself, none of my readers can be so conscious as I
am myself. Whatever it may be worth, it is the best that I
have to offer,
Samuel R. GardiiNer,
Ridgeway, Kimbodton Road,
Beufokd.
CONTENTS
THE FIRST VOLUME.
CHAPTER 1.
THE TUDOR MONARCHY.
PAGB
4.99-T272 National consolidation i The Vestiarian Con trovers)
1272-1307 Reign of Edward I. . i Elizabeth decides against
English Parliamentary Go- the Nonconfonnisls . xy
vcrnment . . .2 Enforcement of Conlornuty 2 1
1307-1399 The later Plantagenet Piobbyteiianiifm . . 22
kings . . . . 3 Englisli Episcopacy . . 20
1399-1485 'I'he Lancastrian and I'he Royal Supremacy . 27
Yoikist kings . . 4 Grmdal’s archbishopric . 28
14S5-1509 Reign ut Henry VI [. 5 The Prophesy! ngs . . 2y
1509-1547 Henry VIII. and the Suspension ol Ciiintlal . . 31
Papacy . . . 6 The Nonconfoniu.sls and
Aspirations of the Middle the House of Coninums . 31
Ages . . .7 Whitgitt's aichhishopric . 33
The New Learning and the 'J'hc < 'oiirt of High Cotu-
Refoiniatioii . . . 9 mission . . * 34
lieiiry VllL anti Protes- The Separatists and the
tantism . . . lo Murpielate hlids , . 37
1547-1558 Reigns of JCdward VI, Reaction iu faviair of the
and Mary . . . xi Elizabethan tihurch . 38
155G-1603 Didiculties of Isliza- Hooker’s
belli , . .12 Poliiy , . . 39
Eh/rdjcth and Maiy Stuart 13 Ariosto, Cervanlt'.s, uml
EliZiibeth anf.1 tlu* C atholics i .\ Spenser . . .41
islizabeth and the Pmitans lO Ueallv of Elizabeth • - 43
CHAPTER II.
CHURCH AND STATE IN SCOTLAND
i5do-i57.T Contrast betiteen 158 } Jni isdieium lestored to the
"England and Seoiland . 44 lUsliops .
Knox and the. Scottish 1502 I'reslij teriauisni restoretl .
nobility . . . 43 1393 Hefe.il of ihe Konhoru
1572 I'he I'ulehan Ih'shops _ . 40 Katis
15U1 The Seeoinl P.ook ol Dis- James urged by tlie cleii'y
eipluu* . . . 47 to make lull use ol Ills
C’haraeu s ot James VL * 4.3 vieitny . , ,
COXTEXI'S OF
PU.B
1 59 ( EmIc of the Earls of I IiimK
and Ertul . . . 5s
1596 Return of thi* E.trh . 5J
Andtew Ale!vill« . . 55
Quarrel betwctii the King
and the Minisleu * S}
Black's Scraion . .
Black sutiimoned befrne
tiic Council . . siS
Resistance of the Ministi is 50
Banishment of Black . . hi
Tumult in Edinhuigh tjj
*597 Ja.mos reduct'S lidmlmrgh
to .subnubbunt . 6^
Proposed admission
of
reprosentauves of
the
c’eigy to Paiiumi'iit
66
James supported by
the
Northern clergy
66
Restnciiuns miposoil
on
the clergy .
(«,
Absolution of Iluntly
and
Errol
70
Parluiinent suppoits
the
bUshinentof Epis-
I Ti.e f'lnUly .uyitts to
t ch'iii.il icpre-
V(“- in i’aiM.utuMit
c‘l(]( •> tu lhi“ if-
*li!.U‘lit Ol 1 J»lS-
p ir \ .
'I’ln* w I), /,'ft . ,
B. -rluips .ippn ntfsl
Ihe inuv Bahups not
at kiiowlcdgod Ip the
< liUK h ' . " .77
1 he I'ligli .Ij snn*i'“ ion , ^7
The Inkujta aisii ih.- Sii!.
lolk lin«‘ . . 78
j.uiii's .uiil Aiahr lla ;y
t ‘ihnmnn /lid’s nns j\»n t<»
Komi' ,
J.iiiKss Si", I t, nine to a
leUt'i 10 iljc Boji" *,ni.
plitnms'a nUi 1
The 'toi ri't eoii"' ' «mlcme
wuh Sn R. C'et 15i
CHAPTER HL
JAMES 1 . AND IHK C VIHOMCS.
1603 Accession of James I. . 8^
Piocfcechngb of the Council
james sets out from Edm-
buigh . 87
Sir Walter Raleigh . . o.
Sir Robert Cecil . yc
Lord Henry Howaid , 93
Raleigh tlisimssed fiom
the Captaincy of the
Guard . . .9*1
Quairels between Scotch
and English . . 95
Giicvances of the English
Catholics . - yfi
Hopes of better treatimnt
from James. . . 97
Lindsay's Mission . 97
The dope's Breves . . 98
Letters of Northumbei land 99
The Monopolies called in 100
Spam and die Netherlands loi
The war party in England 10a
Cecil's vievvs on peace with
Spam , . .103
The Dutch embassy , . loq
Rosny's mission .
Ireaty of Hampton Court
with France . 107
W atsoii's pint , jtjS
InUamaUtin p.ncu bj tla
^ Ii'smt, . m
'i'hc RciUsamn fine* IC'
mitti'd , .11}
Till' (,>ti( f n iflii’t s to i*>«
Cfivc the t'liimii n>'*n . u‘>
Coblntm and Rat t.:h .ii
ti'stfd . . * 117
Evulciiu' a,i>.im .r them , iiH
Case ag.iiiis R ilciitli . . i.o
KaleigliH .utcmi'UHl mu
i«l<
alci itri.U.
The
abh' ("Cjtlanati of
Raleigh's ton I Ui i .
'I lull id the other pi ssoiict*
I'.\fVUtions and rcpucus ,
Negotiation with iti<
Ntimio at Pa'ts . .
James u’tu'vts his assrn-
anci'S to the < alhoiics .
Stimlcn's ims'imj
100} lumsisf of t atliohi’s sii
England
Prodatmuion foi the b.»ti
islmient of thr p-icbts -
THE FIRST VOLUME,
xiii
CHAPTER IV.
THE HAMPTON COURT CONFERENCE AND THE
PARLIAMENTARY OPPOSITION.
1603 Bacon’s Con Heiaf font
ioHch ing the Pad jit niton
of the Church of Eng-
land . . . 146
Jame‘!’s attitude towaids
the Piintans , ^ *147
The Millenary Petition ^ 148
Answer of the Universi-
ties . . . i$o
James’s proposals 15 1
Touching for the King's
evil . . . . 152
1604 The Conference at Hamp-
ton Court . . 153
Death of Whitgift . .1^9
The House of Commons . 160
'The House of Loids , 162
Meeting of Parliament . 163
Sir Francis Bacon . . 164
PACK
The King's speech • it >5
Cases of Sherley ami
Goodwin . ,r
Recognition of the King's
title . . .170
Pvnvpvance . . .
Wardship . .17 +
Proposed Union with Scot-
land, . . 176
Church Reform in the
House of Commons . 17®
The Apology ot the Com-
mons . , . i 3 o
Supply refused . . iBo
I'he trading companies 187
Discussion on Ineddin of
ti.ide . . . 18S
The Ring’s spi’cch at the
piorogation . , . igo
CHAPTER V.
THE ENFORCEMENT OF CONFORMITY.
1604 Misunderstanding hetw (vn
James and the House of
Commons . *^03
Bacon a possible leconoiler ii)4
The Canons of rBoj. . . 104
Aichbisliop Ranciott . 190
Prooi’cdings ngninst the
Noiuonfoi mists . . 197
X605 The Northanipionslme
petition . . . 108
Cecil's opinion on Non-
confoimity . . 197
Expulsion of the Noncon-
formist clergy . . coo
1604 Janies and die Catholics . 201
‘Act against Re-misants . eo^
1603 The Spanish nionatehy . gu}
I erniu’s foreign policy . 205
Negotiations between
England and Sp.iin . eoO
i:(X)4 Conferenct's for a Peace . 208
The Tieafv of London . 214
The Spanish pensionets . 21 j.
Conntieicwl treaty with
France * . . 217
The blockade of the
Flemish ports . _ .
Difiu'ultv of ptesisving
neutrality
Ptoposeil ' marii.U'e be.
tui'cn Pnmt 1 hmrv •iiul
the lulauta Anne
The RetUMtu V Ai'l tarni'd
into etiee.t hv the ludges
The pne.s's banislKal .
Potimrs ease
Recusancy Inns n'quired
fioin the vAc.ditn < atlio*
lies . . . .
Sir James land* ,iv seul to
Rome .
ifio 5 The pope hopes to t onv. rt
F.ugland
I mt»s t.do'S (*lti t)t t* .
The Rrmusatu v iines levied
( ’lanhofjie ere.ur'd E u! of
.Salisbmv
Ddtieidtie, m tlie wiv of
xiv
COyTENTS OF
CHAPTER VL
GUNPOWDER PLOT,
VM'.K PAK.R
1602 Winter's mission to Sp.lin 234 | Trosluni turns in^'ormer . 2^7
1603 Catesby conceives the idea The letter to Lord Mont-
of the plot . . 235 <'a,£,d(' . . . 248
1604 Imparts it to Winter and I 'rir; plot betraved to the
Wright . , . 236 i Ihjvenurxntt . . ep)
Fawkes and Percy in- I (Nyjtttn* ol Fawkes , . 250
formed . . . 237 Probable exjdau.ition of
A house at Westminster Tresliain’s behaviour . a;;!
taken . . . 238 Tin* cem'-pirators' pmeerd-
The mine commenced . i'3(r mgs in I.oiulon , . a;?
1605 A cellar hired . . cat Their Hight to the N'oith . jv;
Fawkes sent to Flanders . 242 1 'he hunting at 1 )!!nehnu'h
Garnet, Gerard, and Failure of the movement . esq
Greenwav . . 243 'i'he con.S[nr,itors take re-
Digby, Rokewood, and fuge at Holbeehe . si. a
Tresbam admitted . . 2^4 Death and capuue <tf the
Preparations for n rising . 245 conspirators . . 203
Were the Catholic peers Character of the con-
to be warned? . . 246 sjuracy . . . 2(14
CHAPTER VI L
THE OATH OF Aid,!
Examination of Fawkes . 265 iduo On ns reu’ seniblsng a new
Thanksgiving for the de- K<‘cus.incv At t e.p.iised
liverance . . 266 'Fhe oath of alletpatwt*
Treshani's imprisonment ( ‘anom, drawn up by Con*
and death . . . 267 vocation . ’ . .
rdo6 Trial and execution of the 'I he doctrine of non lehi**!-
conspimtors who had ance
been taken . . 268 The King rtduv, to assent
The search at Hi ndlip . 270 to the canons
Capture of Gai net . 271 Fife-i ot the oath ot alhi-
His examination . . 272 gianet* ,
His narrative of his con- Fiiiaueial tlisorder
nection with the plot . 273 James profeSM*s a ui'th to
Fils trial . , . 277 ’ be etxmoniieal .
The doctrine of equivoca- liaetm’s posilitm in the
tion . . . 281 H(»u.nc of t'onimons
Garnet’s execution . . 282 Subsidies granted .
Trial of Northumberland Knd of the session
in the Star Chamber . 283 Visit of the King of Den-
1605 Parliament opened and mark . ' , .300
adjourned ... 285
CHAPTER VI n.
THE POST- N ATI.
1603 State of Scotland after the iCoj^ He intends to allow no
King had left it . . 301 more General As'.ein-
^ Causes of his success hires . . ,
against the Presbyterians 303 itios He fears that an Asserablv
THE FIRST VOLUME,
will attack the Bishops
and Commissioners . 304
Presbyterian opposition . 305
Meeting of ministers at
Aberdeen . . 306
Tliey declare themselves
to form a General As-
sembly . . . 307
False account of their
proceedings sent to the
King . . .308
Imprisonment of Forbes
and five other roiniste»‘s . 309
They decline to submit to
the Council’s jurisdic-
tion . . . . 310
1606 Tr al of the ministers . 311
Their banishment . . 315
Imprisonment of eight
other ministers , . 316
Position of the bishops . 317
Andrew Melville and seven
other ministers brought
to London . .318
His verses, imprisonment,
and banishment . . 319
The Linlithgow Conven-
tion and the Constant
Moderators . . 320
Ca-iises of the King's suc-
cess . . . . 322
Opening of the English
Parliament . . 324
Report of the Commis-
sioners for the Union . 324
Fiee trade and naturalisa-
tion . . .325
The Post-nati and the
Ante-nati . . . 326
The King urges the Com-
mons to accept the
scheme of the Commis-
sioners . . .328
Debates on commercial
intercom se , . . 329
PAGE
1607 Violence of Sir C. Pigott 330
Debates on naturalisation 331
Speech of Fuller . • 33r
And of Bacon . . . 332
Coke’s opinion . . 334
Proposal of the Commons 336
Fresh intervention of the
King . . . 33 ^
Abolition of hostile laws
and extradition of crimi-
nals . . -337
Prisoners to be tried in
their own country . . 338
Bacon Solicitor-General . 340
Relations between Eng-
land and Spain . . 34c
Sea-fight off Dover . 341
Ill-treatment of English-
men m Spain . .343
Proposed marriage be-
tween Prince Hentyand
the Infanta Anne . 343
Ne wee's arrest . . 344
Franceschi’s plot . , 345
The trade with Spain. . 347
The Spanish company op-
posed in the House of
Commons . . 348
The merchants’ petition . 349
Spanish cruelties . . 350
The Commons send the
petition to the Lords . 351
Salisbury advises patience 352 .
Northampton's contemp-
tuous language . -353
Parliament prorogued . 354
Disturbances about en-
closures . . -354
1608 The case of the Post-na'i
in the Exchequer Cham-
ber . . . . 355
The Post-nati naturalised
by the judges . . 356
The Union abandoned . 356
CHAPTER IX.
THE PACIFICATION OF IRELAND.
r:d9-i529 The Norman Con-
quest of Ireland . . 358
Ireland in the Middle Ages 359
1529-1598 Ireland m the time of
the Tudors . . 360
1598 The defeat on the Black-
w’ator . . . 361
1599 Essex in Ireland . . 362
1600 Mountjoy m Ireland . . 362
1603 Submission of the country 364
Grievances of the towns . 365
Resistance at Cork . . ^67
Proposed league between ^
the towns , , 368
CONTENTS OF THE FIRST VOLUME.
xvi
Mountjnv suppresses their
resistance . . .
He returns to EntjHnd
and becomes Eail of
Devonshire . . 371
Sir George Carey Lord
Deputy . . . 372
1604 Sir /irthur Chichester Lo-d
Deputy . . . 373
1605 Social condition of Ireland 374
The septs and the chiefs . 375
The Government wishes to
introduce English cus-
toms . . . 377
1603 Condition of Leinster and
Munster. . . 378
C Connaught and Ulster. 379
The first circuit in Ulster . 380
The Earl of Tyrone . .381
Sir John Davies . . 382
1605 Proclamations for disarm-
ament, and an amnesty 383
Protection to be given to
the tenants . . 384
Chichester's visit to Ulster 386
Trc.itment of the Irish
Cal holies . , . 333
The Dublin ah iennen sum-
moned liefote the Castle
Chamber . .
Protest of the Catholics . 39^
1606 Proceedings against the
Catholics in \Iunster . 39-
Chichester’s views on per-
secution . . . 39$
1607 Relaxation of the persecu-
tion ... 309
Indictment of Lalnr . . 400
Ch'che.ster’s efTorts to re-
form the Church . 4or
1606 Chiehe-stcr's second visit to
Ulster . . . 403
Wickh iw made into shire-
ground . , . 4 o5
CHAPTER X.
THE PLANTATION OF UL.STER.
1607 Dissatisfaction of the
Northern chiefs 408
Tyrone’s quarrel with
O’Cahan . , 409
O'Cahan refers his case to
the Government
Information given of a con-
spiracy . . . 413
O'Cahan's case to be heard
in London . , . 4T4
The flight of the Earls . 416
Precautions taken by the
Government . . 417
Chichester’s views on the
settlement of Ulster . . 418
Quarrel between O’Cahan
and the Bishop of Derry 419
Sir George Paulet at Derry 420
O'Dogherty attacked by
Paulet . . .421
The Assizes at Lifford and
Strabane . . . 422
1608 Intrigues of Neil! Garve . 423
O'Dogherty’s rising . 424
Defeat and death of
O’Dngheity. . ,
The niassi.ir're on Tory
Island . . , 430
1609 Kdll G..vrve and O’Cahan
sent to Enulatid . . 431
Scheme of the < 'ommis-
.sioners in London for
the si'iilement tif UKtim 432
Ditl'eri-nee bf'tweon th* ir
sduune and ih.d of
Chiehe'.fer . , 433
Paeon’s views on Die snb-
j‘‘ct . . . . 435
Chichester’s erfticism . 436
Publication of the scheme
of the Commissioners . 437
i6ro Chichester’s appeal on l>e-
half of th<‘ niitives . . 438
The retuoval of the Irish , 4^9
Discontent in Ulster . 440
Matv'rial progress of the
colony . , , 441:
JC40
Map illustrating the Gunpowder Plot
HISTORY OF ENGLAND.
CHAPTER I.
THE TUDOR MONARCHY.
The first eight centuries of English history were centuries of
national consolidation. Gradually petty tribes were merged
449-1272. in larger kingdoms, and kingdoms were merged in
SSSida- nation. The Norman Conquest, which created a
tion. fresh antagonism of race, softened down territorial
antagonisms. Then followed the process by which the English
and the Norman races were fused into one. In the reign of
Henry 11 . the amalgamation had been completed, and the
union between classes was strengthened by the bond of a
common resistance to the tyranny of John, and to the sub-
serviency of Henry HI. to foreign interests. Fortunately for
England she found in the son of Henry III. a king who was
a thorough Englishman and who was as capable as he was
patriotic.
When Edward I. reached man’s estate, he found his
countrymen prepared to rush headlong into civil war. When
he died, he left England welded together into a
I272-I307, ' ^
Reign of compact and harmomous body. It was the result of
Edward I. consolidation of the state and nation that,
however necessary a strong royal authority still was, th^? dutj^
of directing the course of progress could be safely entrusted to
VOL. L B
THE TUDOR MONARCHY.
err. I.
the nation itself. It was not here, as it was in France, that the
choice lay only between a despotic king and a turbulent and
oppressive baronage— between one tyrant and a thousand. A
king ruling in accordance wnth law, and submitting his judg-
ment to the expressed wall of the national council, .so that the
things which concerned all might be approved of by all, was
the ideal of goveriiment which was accepted by Kdward L
The materials of a rarliamcntary constitution were no
doubt ready to Edward’s hand. The great coiim'ils of llm
Norman kings were no more than the \\’itcnngemot.s
xnenisof* of carlier times in a feudal shape, a.s by suhse<iuent
Edw.udi. they ultimately look the form of the
modern House of Lords. During the reigns of the (lonqneror
and his sons, they were occasionally held. Under Henry Tl.
they met more frequently, to take part in the great <|ues(.ions
of the time, and to give their sanction to the reforms proposed
by the king. When John and his son were upon the throne,
the great barons saw’ the iicce.s!5ity of uniting themselves in
their opposition to the Government w’ith the lesser kjughls and
freeholders, and accordingly, at that time, representatives of
this class began to be present at their meetings. Towards the
end of the contest Simon of Montfort smnmcaied Injrge.sse.s
from a few towns wdiich were likely to sujjport his jKirty. 'The
advantages to be derived from these dianges did m^t tvape*
the sagacious mind of JCdward. AWthout a single afteitlujught,
or reservation of any kind, he at once accepted the limitation
of his own powers. To the Parliament thus forntetl he sul)-
mitted his legislative enactment.s. He reque.sted their advice
on the most important administrative mc'asures, and e\‘t n
yielded to them, though not without .some reluctan<a‘, the kiht
remnant of his powers of arbitrary taxation.
He had his reward. Great as were his achievements in
peace and war, the Parliament of England was the miblest
English monument ever reared by mortal man, Perhap.s the
^vhen that Parliament will think that
the statue of Edward ought to occupy the pla<'e in
; Yard which has been so unworthily taken possession of
by the one among onr long line of sovcrcigms who has the blast
1272-1307 THE PARLIAMENTARY KINGSHIP.
3
claim to be represented in connection either with Westminster
Kali or with the Houses of Parliament. Many things have
changed, but in all main points the Parliament of England, as
it exists at this day, is the same as that which gathered round
the great Plantagenet. It is especially the same in that which
forms its chief glory, that it is the representative not of one
class, or of one portion of society alone, but of every class and
of every portion which, at any given time, is capable of repre-
sentation. Every social force which exists in England makes
its weight felt within the wails of Parliament The various
powers of intellect, of moral worth, of social position and of
wealth find their expression there. Lords and prelates, knights
and burgesses, join, as they have ever joined, in making laws,
because each of these classes of men is capable of forming an
opinion of its own, which in its turn is sure to become an
element m the general opinion of the country ; and because
each of them is destined to share m the duty of carrying into
execution the laws which have been made.
Nor was it of less importance tliat those who came up to
Pailiament should come, not on behalf of their own petty
interests, but as representatives of their common country.
Happily, the men who composed the Parliament of Edward L
had learned this lesson in opposition to a long course of
arbitsary power, and they were not likely to forget it when they
were summoned to share the counsels of a tmly national king.
So it was that the step which seemed to divide the powders of
the State, and in the eyes of some would appear likely to
introduce weakness into its government, only served to increase
its strength, Edward was a far more powerful Sovereign than
his father, not so much by the immeasurable superiority of his
genius, as because he placed the basis of his authority on a
broader footing.
Yet, wide as the basis of government had become, England
in the fourteenth century could not afford to dispense with a
1307-1399. strong monarchy. The aim of the nation was not,
f afterwards became in the seventcentlr century,
moruirciiy. the restriction of the powers exercised by the GovSrn-
ment, but the obtaining of guarantees that those powers should
THE TUDOR MONARCHY.
CH. t
be exercised in the interests, not of the Sovereign, but of the
nation. Hence the popularity of every king of England who
made it his object to fulfil the duties of his office. A Sovereign
•who neglected those duties, or one wffio made use of his high
position as a means to pamper his own appetites, or those of
his favourites, was alike ruinous to the fortunes of the rising
nation. England needed a strong hand to hold the reins,
and it knew well what its need was. At all costs a government
must be obtained, or anarchy would break out in its wildest
forms. What the people felt with regard to the ro}’al
from office was admirably expressed by a writer who lived
Ploughman latter part of the reign of Edward III. After
telling the well-known fable of the attempt made by the rats to
bell the cat,* he proceeds to add a sequel of his own. In his
story the cat, of course, represents the king, the rats stand for
the nobles, and the mice for the common jieople. He informs
us that after the council of the rats had broken up, a little
mouse stepped forward to address the assembly, wlncli then
consisted of a large number of mice. He warned them that
they had better take no part in any attomiit against the life, or
even against the power, of the cat. He had often lH*en told
by his father of the great misery which prevailed when the cat
was a kitten. Then the rats gave the mice no rest. If the
cat injured a mouse or two now and then, at all events he k(‘pt
down the number of the rats.
It was difficult in a hereditary monarchy to find a worthy
successor to Edward I Edward IT. was deservedly deposed.
The later Edward III, kept I'lnglaiKl in peatx; at
home by engaging it in a war of foreign roiupiest
llichard 11, .succumbed to the difficiilties of his situa-
tion, augmented by his own incapacity fur the task (T govern-
ment.
The Revolution of 1399 placed the family of Lancaster on
1399-148S. the throne. Ruling as it did by a Parliamentary
title, it was unable to control the power of the great
kings. ^ barons. Parliament was strong, but in Parliament
^ the(fweight of the House of Lords was superior to that of tlie
‘ Tt'm PlouHmian^ I 3G1 .411
1399-1485 STRENGTHENING OF GOVERNMENT. 5
•
House of CommonSj and the lay members of the House of
Lords had an interest in diminishing the power of the king,
in order that they might exalt their own at the expense of the
classes beneath them. Complaints that the kingdom was un-
done for want of governance were increasingly heard, and
waxed louder than ever when the sceptre fell into the hands of
a ruler so weak as Henry VI.
In the Wars of the Roses which followed, the great lords,
though nominally defending the crowm of their Sovereign, w^ere
The Wars of reality fighting for themselves. Personal con-
the Roses, sidcrations, no doubt, often decided the part which
was taken by individuals in the wars of the Roses, but in the
main the aristocracy was Lancastrian, whilst the strength of
the House of York lay in the lesser gentry, and the inhabitants
of the towns. To the Percies and the Cliffords it v/as an ad-
vantage that there was no king in the land. To the humbler
classes it was a matter of life and death that a strong hand
should be ever on the watch to curb the excesses of the nobility.
As long as the struggle was between a Yorkist king and the
incapable Henry, there was no doubt which was the popular
hero. When the question narrowed itself into a merely personal
struggle between two competitors of equal ability, the people
stood aloof, and left it to a handful of interested persons to
decide at Bosworth the disputed right to the crown of
England.
With Henry VII. the Tudor dynasty ascended the throne.
He took up the work which the kings of the House of York
X48S-1S09. had essayed to accomplish — that of establishing a
iieniyVii. strong iiionarcby, powerful enough to suppress
anarchy, and to hinder the great nobles from pillaging and
ill-treating the middle classes. By putting in force the Statute
The Statute of Livcrics, Henry VIL threw obstacles in the way
of Livcrics. formation of feudal armies wearing the uniform
of their lord. By the enlarged jurisdiction which he gave to
The Star the Court of Star Chamber, he reached culprits too
Chamber, niadc amenable to the ordinary processes
of law. That Court, unpopular as it afterwards became, was#
now employed in a popular cause. It brought down punish-
6 THE TUDOR MONARCHY. CH. l.
nient on the heads of the great, when it was difficult to find a
jury which would not be hindered by fear or affection from
bringing in a verdict against them, even if it could be sup-
ported by the strongest evidence.
Such a work could not be done by a weak king. The
middle class—the country gentry and the tradesmen-™ were
Strength of cnougli to givc support to tlic Sovereign, but
the Tudor they had not as yet that organisation wliich would
^lonarehy. stroiig independently of him* In
consequence, the king who gave them security was reverenced
with no common reverence. Because very few wished to
resist him, those who lifted hand against him fell under the
1509-1347. general reprobation. Henry \']L, and still more
Uenryvm. pienry VIIL, were tlivrefore able to do many
things which no king had ever done liefu'e. 'fhey could
wreak their vengeance on those who were olmoxious to them,
sometimes under the cover of the law, stanetimes without any
pretext of law. Their rule was as near an ajiproach to despot-
ism as has ever been known in England. But heavily as the
yoke pressed on individuals it pressed lightly on the nation.
One word which has come down to us fnan those times is
sufficient to point out the nature of the ptnver which men
understood to be entrusted to the Tudor kings. Even when
their acts were most violent, the name by whitffi wliat we should
call ‘the nation’ was spoken of was ‘the commonwealth.’
Every class, even the king himself, had a po.sition of its own ;
but each was expected to contribute to the well-being t)f the
whole. Above all, the king had no .standing army, still less a
Dody of foreign mercenaries to dejjcnd on. His force rested
entirely upon public opinion, and that opinion, inert as it was
on questions affecting individual rights, was prompt to take
alarm when general interests were at stake.
The specially constitutional work of Henry VIIL was the
admission of the House of Commons to a preponderating in-
increasing fluence in Parliament. No doubt he filled the I louse
with his own creatures, and he suggested, and even
ConiEons. put into shapc, the measures adopted by It. For all
that, the general tone of the House was the tone of the nation
1509-47 the breach WITH THE PATACK
7
outside, and before the expression of its wishes the House of
Peers was compelled to give way. The submission of that
which had hitherto in reality, as well as in name, been the
Upper House was disguised by the exclusion of a large number
of its clerical members through the dissolution of the monas-
teries, and by the creation of several new peerages in favour of
men who had risen by the King’s favour from the middle
class.
The growth of the sentiment of national unity had, during
the Middle Ages, gradually weakened the hold of the Papacy
England and On England. The refusal of Clement VII. to ap-
the Papacy, pj-oye of the divorcc of Henry VIII. brought the long
contest to a crisis. The work commenced when the Conqueror
refused to pay Peter’s Pence at the bidding of Gregory VII,
and, carried on by Henry II, by Edward L, and by the
authors of the statutes of Pro visors and Premunire, was brought
to an end by the Act of Appeals and the Act of Supremacy.
Ecciesiasti- England w^as, in ecclesiastical as well as in civil
‘Affairs, to be a nation complete in itself. The great
attained. object for which the nation had been striving for
centuries 'was at last attained. The supremacy of the national
Government over all individual men, and over all separate
classes, was achieved.
Henry had no intention of allowing any change of doctrine
in the English Church, but it was impossible for him to stop
the force of the currents which were influencing the thoughts
of his generation. The very consolidation of national power
which had weakened the papal organisation, had also sapped
the spiritual basis on which it rested. Over all Western Europe
. . one uniform tendency of thought was at the bottom
Aspirations . , , , , , - ,
of the Mid- of every movement during the whole course of the
die Ages. Ages. To check the unruly riot of indivi-
dual will, and to reach the firm ground of unity and order,
the one prevailing aspiration which manifested itself in all
departments of human endeavour. The architects of those
cathedrals which were springing up in Iheir beauty in every corner
of Europe took care, however irregular the ground plan ^f the
building might be, to lead the eye to one tall Empire or tower which
THE TUDOR m.KARCHW
CII. I.
might give unity to their work. The one great poct^ produced
by the Middle Ages worshipped order and arrangement till he,
a citizen of Italian Florence, was absolutely driven to call upon
a German prince to bring under some kind of law, however
rugged, the too luxuriant humours of the burghers of Italian
cities. As it was with medieval poetry, so was it with
medieval science. Proud of its new-found prc'cminenre, the
mind of man sat enthroned upon a height from whence it
summoned all things human and divine to appear before it,
and to give themselves up to the strict laws and the orderly
classification which w’ere to be imposed upon them, I'liere
were to be no obstinate questionings of the wild vagaries of
nature, no reverent confession of inability to comprehend all
its mysteries. The mind of man was greater tlmn the material
world, and by logic it would comprehend it all Religion could
not fail to follow in the same direction. 'I'he ideal of a people
is generally composed of every element which is most opposed
to the evils of their actual existence. With a peoj»lc sc^arcely
escaped from barbarism, that form of .self-denial cutild hardly
fail to be considered as the highest virtue whi«'h is slsowm not
in active exertion, but in bringing into obedience the unruly
passions and the animal desires. I’he one way to the hearts
of men lay through asceticism, and a.scctici.sm was only to
be found in perfection in the monastery, 'fhe body was to he
condemned to a living death, and the spirit alone was to live.
The greatest saint was not the man who was nsost useful to the
Church, but the man who showed the greatest mastery over all
fleshly desires, and had most entirely oust off llie feelings ot
our common nature : for it was this very })ower of self-restraint
which was most difficult of attainment by the impetuous spirit
of the ordinary layman. When kinges foamed at the mouth and
cursed and swore at every trivial disappointment, it was m\f
natural that the most respected of the clergy shouki wear hair-
shirts and live like anchorites. Religious thought followed in
the wake of religious practice. There was one fliilh drawn out
’ i^aucer not being a medieval poet at all, except in point of time,
iPat standing in the same relation to Shaksperc as tliat in which Wychtfe
stands to bother,
1509-47
THE NEW LEARNING.
9
with the most complete exactness to the most infinitesimal con-
sequences, which the greatest minds might illustrate, but from
which they might not vary a hairbreadth. In every land one
worship ascended to God, clothed in the same holy forms, and
offered in the same sacred tongue. Men and the thoughts of
men might change as the changing billows of the sea, but there
was that amongst them which never changed. To Englishman
and Italian, to baron and serf, it told one tale, and inculcated
one lesson of submission to Him whose kingdom was above all
the earthly distractions and commotion in the midst of which
their lives were passed.
At last a great change came. The craving for discipline
found its satisfaction in the institutions of the State. Every-
Reaction whcre there was a reaction against asceticism, which
Swticism by crushing human nature to win a glimpse of
?'armng Once more, as in the ancient world, man,
earning. world in wliich he lives, became the highest
object of the thought of man. The barriers by which the old
w'orld had been hemmed in fell back, and the wonders of
creation revealed themselves in all their infinite glory on every
hand. The boundaries of the earth receded before the
hardy mariners of Spain and Portugal, and the secret of the
skies disclosed itself to Copernicus. The works of the great
masters of ancient thought were once more subjected to a
minute and reverent study. An architecture arose which was
regardless of all religious symbolism, but 'which based itself
on the strictest observance of mechanical law. Great artists
enchanted the world by painting men and women as they lived
and moved.
In Italy the new learning found itself in opposition to
the dominant religion. In England, where the Church had
Course of long blended with the world around it, there was
no such violcnt shock of opinion. Colet and More
tiuu. strove to reconcile tlie old world with the new, and
to mingle the life of a recluse with the life of a student. It was
this effort to harmonise separate modes of thought whiclwas
the distinguishing mark of the English Reformation. If More*
shrunk back in this path, there were, others wEo were ready to
10
THE TUDOR MOXARCHY.
CK. I
jjress on. Gradually, but suicly, the received practices, and
cvx’ii received doctrines, were biouplit to the test of human
reason and human learning. At finst it was only plainly super-
stitious usages and impo.stuies wliich ^Yerc i ejected. Later on
the doctrines of the Churclr were explained in such a way as to
meet logical objections, wiiilst Cranmer, intellectually IkLI if
he was morally weak, was prei)nring himself by long study of
the writings of the teachers of the early Church, to renounce
transLibstantiation itself as inconsistent not with the plain
words of Scripture, but with tho.se worths a.s interpreted by tlie
practice of the first ages of the Church.
I'hc spirit of the new learning’ hatl thus drift ctl away from the
as:ceiicism of earlier days. It fount] an ally in the spiiit tif Pro*
piMtis- testantism. Luther hatlex pressed llut eentraltln night
t.iudsm. Qf Protestantism when he pnielaimet! the dtietiine of
Justification by Faith ; it was the extu'it onvei.se of the religiou.s
idea of the Middle Ages. If you would be .spiiiiiud, said the
monks, put the body to death, and the spirit will si/e God and
live. Let the spirit live in seeing Gtxl, saiti Luther, and the
body will conform itself to Hi.s will.
This teaching of the direct personal nlationship between
man and his Creator, wa.s gradually to pt-nnealc the J'higlish
Piifn Church, Its introduction into Mngland made govern-
or ik ment a hard ta.slc. lleniy Vlll. found himself eon-
fronted with the duty of keeping the peace hetween
warring partie.s. The bulk of hi.s subjects <lctcsteil innovations,
and wished to worship and to believe a.s their father,-, had done.
The Protestants wxre nut numerous, but they wore energetic.
The teaching of Luther soon gave way to tlie teaeinng ol
Zwingli, which was even more antagonistic to the ancient creed ;
its disciples attacked, .sometimes with grti.ss smirrility, principles
and habits which were dear to the vast majority of lenglishmen.
Amidst these warring elements, Henry felt it to be hi.s duty
to keep the peace. lie sent to tlie scaffold those wlio main-
His treat- taincd the authority of the Pope, and who, by so
reUgi^ doing, assailod the national independence. He sent
^parties. pnxiched iiew doetrine.s, and,
by so doing, assailed the national unity. 'Phe work was done
^ 547-53 COURSE OF THE REFORMATION,
II
roughly and clumsily ; oaths were tendered which never should
have been tendered, and blood was shed which never should
have been shed. With some higher motives was mingled
the greed which marked out as booty the broad abbey lands,
which were divided between Henry and his court But Henry’s
Henry a le main, the result of his representa-
presentative tive character. The great mass of his subjects dis-
™ liked foreign interference as much as they disliked
Protestant opinions. Toleration was impossible, not merely
Toieiation because the suppression of heresy had long been held
impossible, bounden duty of ail who exercised autho-
rity, but because there was every reason to believe that if new
opinions were allowed to take root, and to acquire strength,
those who held them would at once begin to persecute the
vanquished followers of the old creed.
Henry’s resolute action doubtless did much to steady the
current of change, but he could not stay it. Causes beyond
the control of any human being were propelling the nation
forwards. The reaction against the medieval system of thought
1547-15S3- could not bc checked. When Henry died, that
Edwaid vr. rcactioii came in as a flood. In the first, and still
more in the second, Prayer-Book of Edward VI., the two
tendencies of the age met. The individuality of religicn was
guided by the critical spirit of the new learning. It was not to
be expected that such work could bc carried on without giving
offence. The majority of Englishmen looked on with alaim
when images were torn down in the churches, and when
prayers which knew nothing of the sacrifice of the mass were
read in English. The selfishness and corruption of those who
governed in Edward’s name did the rest ; and when Edward
died, Mary was welcomed as a restorer of a popular Church,
and of honest government.
live years after Mary’s accession the nation had grown
W’cary of the yoke to which it had again submitted. By her
1SS3 1558 Philip she offended the national feeling
Reign of ' of the country. By threatening to resume the abbey
lands she terrified the men who had made thcir'*for-«*
tunes by the Reformation. Above all, the sufferings of the
12
THE TUDOR MONARCHY,
CH. I.
martyrs warmed the heaits of the people into admiration for a
faith which was so nobly attested. The seeds which had been
sown by the Protestants during their brief season of prosperity
in Edward’s reign were beginning to spring up into life.
Patriotism, selfishness, humanity, and religious fiiith combined
to foster the rising disgust which threatened to shake tlie
throne of Mary, and which at last found its expression in the
shout of triumphant joy which greeted the accession of her
sister.
Soon after Elizabeth ascended the tlironc the second
Prayer Book of Edward VL was, with some not unimportant
1558-1603. amendments, declared to be the only form of prayer
£p 5 -esses churches. Opinion, it was annouiK'ed,
CatShc^*^ was to be practically free ; but all must go to
worship. church, and the exercise of the Roman Oatholic
worship w^as rigidly suppressed.^ The Queen had no wish
to deal hardly with those w^ho remained stoadfitst in the
religion of their fathers, and she trusted to time and the
dying out of the old generation to make the whole nation
unanimous in accepting the new \vorship. She herself took no
interest in theological reasoning, and she miscalculated the
power which it still exercised in the world.
It was not long before conspiracie.s broke out within the
realm, and from without the tidings came that the Pope had
Conspiracies excoKimunicated the Queen, and had ab.solved her
thfpojf subjects from their allegiance. In the bac'kground
Kin^^f appeared Philip of Spain, the champion of the Holy
Spain. See. For us, who know the issue of the conflict, it
is almost impossible to realise the feeling of dismay with whidi
that mighty potentate was regarded by the greatest of the Iknveis
of Europe. There did not exist a nation which wa.s ntii <n-er-
awed by the extent of his territories. By means of Naples and
the Milanese he held Italy in a grasp of iron. Franche Comte
^ The best defence of Elizabeth’s treatment of the Catholics is to be
found in Bacon’s tract, In fdicem mmoriam EUzahdhr (Works, vi. 29H).
It mi»t, of course, be received with some allowance ; but it is remarkable
ts proceeding from a man who was himself inclined to toleration, and
written after all motives for flattering the Queen had ceased to exist.
1558-1603
ENGLAND AND SPAIN
13
and the Low Countries served him to keep both France and
Germany in check. The great mercantile cities of Flanders—
the Manchesters and Liverpools of the sixteenth century-paid
him tribute. His hereditary dominions furnished him with
the finest infantry which had been seen in Europe since the
dissolution of the Roman Empire. Whatever life and intel-
Engiand is Icctual vigour Still remained in Italy was put forth in
by'thfv^t furnishing officers for armies which fought in causes
Slnds of officers were at the
riiiiip 11. disposal of the King of Spain. Nor was his iDower,
like that of Napoleon, limited by the shore. His fleet had won
the victory which checked the Turkish navy at Lepanto. The
New World was, as yet, all his own ; and, as soon as Portugal
had been added to his dominions, all that that age knew of
maritime enterprise and naval prowess was undertaken under the
flag of Spain. Great as his power was in reality, it was far greater
The growing ^he imagination. It is no wonder that the Eng-
toEio^ lish people, wffien they found themselves exposed
gives way. to the attacks of such an adversary, gradually forgot
those new principles of partial toleration which had not yet
settled deeply into the national mind. The doctrine put
forth at the accession of Elizabeth was, that conscience was
free, although the public exercise of any other than the estab-
lished religion was to be suppressed. Unsatisfactory as this
was, it was yet an immense advance upon the opinions which
had prevailed thirty years before. By degrees, however, the
Government and the Parliament alike receded from this position.
As early as in i563 anActwas passed by which the bishops
were empowered to tender the oath of supremacy, not only to
persons holding Church preferment or official positions in
the State, but to large bodies of men ; and it was enacted
tliat all who refused the oath should be visited with severe
penalties.
I’lic position of Elizabeth was still further complicated by
the untoward occurrence of the flight of Mary Stuart into
Mary Stuart England. She did not come, as has been often
m England. as a humble suppliant in search of a refug«k
from her enemies. She came breathing vengeance upon the
THE TUDOR MONARCHY,
cm L
nation by which she had been deposed, and demanding either
an English army to replace her on the throne, or permission to
seek similar assistance from the King of France. Elizabeth
hesitated long. She could not, even if she had wished it, grant
her the assistance of an English force ; and to look on while
she was being restored by a French army was equally impossible
in the condition in which European politics were at the time.
With Mary’s claims to the English crown, a French conquest
of Scotland would only have been the precursor of a French
attempt to conquer England.
After long deliberation, Elizabeth chose the alternative
which for the time seemed to be most prudent. She must
Her im. l^^ve come at last to doubt the wisdom of her de-
S°exeS.^ cision. While Mary was lying within the walls of an
English prison, her name became a tower of strength
to the Papal party throughout Europe. The tale of her life,
told as it was in every Catholic society, was listened to as if it
had been one of the legends of the Saints. Every tear she
dropped put a sword into the hands of the Pope and the
Spaniard. There was not a romantic youth in Catholic ]hiraf)e
who did net cherish the hope of becoming the chosen in-
strument by whose hands deliverance might reach the victim of
heretical tyranny. Jesuits and missionary priests swarmed over
from the Continent, and whispered hopes of victory in the oars
of their disciples. Incessant attempts were made to assassinate
Elizabeth. At last the end drew near j the only end which
could well have come of it. Louder and louder the voice of
England rose, demanding that the witch wlio had seduced so
many hearts should not be suffered to live. After a hmg
struggle, Elizabeth gave way. The deed was done which none
of those had contemplated who, nineteen years before, had
joined in recommending the detention of the Scottish ( Jucen,
although it was only the logical consequence of that fatal error.
If the Government and people of England dealt thus with
Mary herself, they were not likely to treat with mild-
of the ness the supporters of her claims. Act after Act was
° passed, each harsher than the last, against priests who
should attempt to reconcile any subject of the Queen to the
1558-1603
ELIZABETHS VICTORY,
15
See of Rome, or should even be found engaged in tlie cele-
bration of mass- The laity were visited with fines, and w^ere
frequently subjected to imprisonment. Harsh as these pro-
ceedings were, the mere fact that it was thought necessary to
justify them shows the change which had taken place since
Henry VIII. was upon the throne. Neither the arguments
put forward by the Government, nor those by which they were
answered, were by any means satisfactory. We shake our
heads incredulously when we hear a priest from Douai urging
that he was merely a poor missionary, that he was a loyal sub-
ject to the Queen, and that, if success attended his undertaking,
it would be followed by no political change. ^ We are no less
incredulous when we hear Burghley asserting that the Govern-
ment contented itself with punishing treason, and that no re-
ligious question was involved in the dispute.
The old entanglement between the temporal and the
s|.iritual powers was far too involved to be set loose by
argument^ Such questions can be decided by the sword
alone. The nation was in no mood to listen to scholastic
disputations. Every year which passed by swept away some of
the old generation which had learnt in its infancy to worship
at the Catholic altars. Every threat uttered by a vSpanisli
ambassador rallied to the national government hundreds who,
in quieter limes, would have looked with little satisfaction
on the changed ceremonies of the Elizabethan Church. With
stern confidence in their cause and in their leaders, the English
people prepared for the struggle which awaited them. Leagued
TiwAr- rising republic of the United Netherlands,
mada. defiance to Philip and all his power. At
last the storm which had been for so many years gathering on
’ In the letters of the priests amongst the Roman Tramal/fs in tht
A\ 0 ,, written in tlic beginning of James’s reign, Elizabeth is usually styled
the ‘ Pseudo-Regina.’
* P)acon speaks of ‘ mailers of religion and the Church, which in these
limes hy the confused use of both .swords are become so intermixed with
considerations of estate, as most of the counsels of sovereign princeror
republics depend upon them.’ — Tie Beginning of the History of Great
Britain. Works, vi. 276
THE TUDOR MONARCHY. '
CH. I.
the horizon burst upon the English Channel. When the smoke
of battle cleared away England was still unharmed, riding at
anchor safely amidst the swelling billows.
As long as the great struggle lasted it could not but exercise
a powerful influence upon the mental growth of those who
Effects of witnessed it On the one hand it favoured the
the conflict, growth of national consciousness, of the habit of
idealising English institutions, and above all of the great
Queen who was loved and reverenced as an impersonation of
those institutions. On the other hand it drove those in whom
the religious element predominated to accentuate the differ-
ences which separated them far more than they would have
done in time of peace. The Catholic whose zeal had been
stirred up by the new missionaries was far more hostile to
Protestantism, and to the Government which supported Protes •
tantism, than his father had been in the generation before him.
The Protestant caught eagerly at doctrines diametrically
opposed to those which found favour at Rome. He o])poscd
principle to principle, discipline to discipline, infallibility to
infallibility.
If, by the doctrine of justification by fiiith, Taither had ex-
pressed the central thought of Protestantism, it was
Sc^ylS reserved to Calvin to systematise the Protestant
teaching and to organise the Protestant Church,
It was well that discipline was possible in the Prote.stant
ranks. The contest which was approaching called for a faith
compaied which was formed of sterner stuff than that of whicdi
dsm of was made. It was necessary that the
the Middle idcas of self-restraint and of self-denial should again
resume their prominence. There is in many respects
a close resemblance between the Calvinistic system and that of
the medieval Church. Both were characterised by a stein
dislike to even innocent pleasures, and by a tendeiu'y to in-
terfere with even the minute details of life. The law of God,
to which they called upon men to conform, was regarded by
both rather as a commandment forbidding what is evil than
as a living harmony of infinite varieties. The form of Chun;h
government which was adopted in cither system was regarded
CALVINISM.
17
1558-1603
as not only of Divine institution, but as being the one mould
in which every Christian Church should be cast. But here the
resemblance ended. The pious Catholic regarded close com-
munion with God as the final object of his life, after he had
been delivered from all selfish passions by strict obedience to
external laws and by the performance of acts commanded by an
external authority. The pious Calvinist regarded this com-
munion as already attained by the immediate action of the
Holy Spirit upon his heart. The course of the former led him
from the material to the spiritual. The course of the latter led
him from the spiritual to the material. One result of this
difference was that the Calvinist was far more independent
than the Catholic of all outward observances, and of all assist-
ance from his fellow-men. He stood, as it were, alone with
his God, He lived ‘ ever in his Great Taskmaster’s eye.’ His
doctrine of predestination was the strong expression of his
belief that the will of God ruled supreme amidst the changes
and chances of the world. His doctrine of the Atonement was
replete with his faith, that it is only by an act of God that the
world can be restored to order. His doctrine of conversion
was the form in which he clothed his assurance that it was only
when God Himself came and took up His abode in his heart
that he could do His will. There was that in these men which
could not be conquered. They were not engaged in working
out their own salvation j they were God’s chosen children. In
their hands they had the Word of God, and, next to that, they
had His oracles written in their own hearts. They were liable
to mistakes, no doubt, like other men, and in all good faith
they complained of the corruption of their hearts ; but it was
not wonderful that in all critical conjunctures they fancied
themselves infallible, because they imagined that their own
thoughts were signs to them of the voice of God. If He were
for them, who could be against them? Anchored on the
Rock of Ages, they could safely bid defiance to all the menaces
of the Pope and to all the armies of the mightiest potentates of
Europe. ^
When Elizabeth ascended the throne, the Calvinistic system
VOL, I. c
THE TUDOR MONARCHY.
CH. I.
of belief had penetrated with more or less completeness into
the minds of the great majority of English Protestants. It
owed its success in part to the circumstance that, during the
It is favour. Marian persecution, so many of the English Protes-
cd?ed in come under the influence of the leading
ISibeth? nrinds of the countries in which they passed the
accession, time of their exile ; but still more to its logical
completeness, and to the direct antagonism in which it stood
to the doctrines of the Roman Church.
As a system of belief, therefore, Calvinism had gained a
footing in England. Its system of Church government, and its
mode of carrying on the public worship of the congregation,
were likely to meet with more opposition. The English
Reformation had been carried out under the control of the
lay authorities. Such a Reformation was not likely to be
conducted according to strict logical rules. Feelings and
prejudices which could not be recognised by a thinker in
his study necessarily had a large share in the work which
had been done. The Calvinistic Reformation, on the other
hand, was, above all things, a clerical Reformation, During
the greater part of the sixteenth century the thought of hhirope
was to be found, almost exclusively, in the ranks of the Pro-
testant clergy, and by far the greater part of the Protestant
clergy grouped themselves instinctively round the banner of
Calvin, the most severe and logical thinker of them all.
The first difference was caused by the revival of the Ves-
tiarian Controversy, as it was called, which had already given
TheVestia much confusion during the reign of I^d-
mn Con- ward VI. The vestments which were finally adopted
troversy. Cliurch of England, together with certain otirer
ceremonies, displeased the Calvinistic ministers, not only as
relics of Popery, but also as bringing ideas before their minds
which were incompatible with the logical perfection of their
system. They believed that the operations of Divine grace, so
far as they were carried on through human agency at all, were
ag:ached to the action either of the written Word or of the
preaching of the Gospel upon the mind To imagine that the
heart could be influenced by outward forms and ceremonies,
j55S-i6o3
NONCONFORMITY.
19
or that the spirit could be reached through the bodily organs,
was an idea which they were unable to grasp. ^
The laity, on the other hand, as a body, did not trouble
themselves to consider whether or not such things fitted
into the religious theory which they had adopted. Certain
ceremonies and certain vestments had been abolished be-
cause they were understood to be connected with imposture
or falsehood. But they were unable to comprehend why a
man could not wear a surplice because he believed the
doctrines of predestination and justification by faith, or why he
could not reverently kneel during the administration of the
Communion because he was certain that that which he took
from the hands of the minister had not ceased to be veritable
bread and wine.
With all these feelings Elizabeth was inclined to sympathise.
Herself fond of outward pomp and show, she would have been
, , to see in use rather more of the old forms than
Elizabeth
a^ainSthe which she found it advisable to retain. But
^ there were grave reasons which justified her during
ormibts. earlier years of her reign, in her opposition to
those who clamoured for a simpler ritual. The great mass of
the clergy themselves were at heart opposed to Protestantism.
Of the laity, a very large number looked coldly even upon
moderate deviations from the fonns to which, excepting for a
few years, they had been so long accustomed Even those
who, from horror at the excesses of Mary, sympathised with
* Of course they could not reject the two sacraments, but they con-
nected them with preaching as much as possible. In the Scottish Con-
fession of Faith of 1560 we find ; “That sacraments be rightly ininistrate
we judge two things requisite ; the one, that they be minibtrate by lawful
ministers, whom we affirm to be only those that are appointed to the
preaching of the word, into whose mouth God hath put some sermon of
exhortation,” &c. (Art. xxii.) On the other hand, their hatred of for-
mality made them say ; “ We utterly condemn the vanity of those that
affirm sacraments to he nothing else but naked and bare signs ” (Ait. xxi. )
Bacon remarked the prevalence of the same idea amongst the English
Puritans ; “ They have made it almost of the essence of the saciamen4of
the supper to have a sermon precedent.”— Bacon on the Controversies
of the Church, Leitei^s mi Life^ i. 93.
C2
THE TUDOR MONARCHY. CH. i.
the overthrow of priestly domination, were by no means
inclined to part with the decent forms and reverent ceremonies
which remained. If Elizabeth had carried out the Reforma-
tion in the spirit of Cartwright and Humphreys, many years
would hardly have passed before the House of Commons
would have been found supporting the principles which had
been maintained by Gardiner and Bonner in her father’s reign
What the tendency of those principles was, England had
learned only too well by a bitter experience.
It speaks volumes in favour of the conciliatory effects of
English institutions that Elizabeth was able to find amongst
the Calvinist clergy men who would assist her as bishops in
carrying out the settlement upon which she had determined.
They would themselves have preferred to see alterations made
to which she was unwilling to assent, but they were ready to
give up points which they judged to be comparatively unim-
portant, rather than to put the fortunes of Protestantism itself
in jeopardy. If, so late as in 1571, Archbishop Parker had to
wiite that ‘the most part of the subjects of the Queen’s High
ness disliketh the common bread for the sacrament,’ ^ we may
be sure that any general attempt to adopt the simple forms of
the Genevan ritual would have met with similar disfavour.
Even if Elizabeth had been inclined to try the experiment, she
could not have afforded to run the risk. There was, probably,
not more than a very little pardonable exaggeration in the
words which, in 1559, were addressed by Granvelle to the
English Ambassador. “It is strange,” he said, “that you believe
the world knoweth not your weakness. I demand, what store
of captains or men of war have you ? What treasure, what
furniture for defence ? What hold in England able to endure
the breath of a cannon for one day? Your men, I confess,
are valiant, but without discipline. But, admit you had
discipline, what should it avail in division ? The people a
little removed from London are not of the Queen’s religion.
The nobles repine at it, and we are not ignorant that of late
some of them conspired against her.” ^
^ Parhr Correspondence, p. 373. * Wright’s Quern PJkakth, t. 24,
J 558 -1603
CONFORMITY ENFORCED.
21
Strong, however, as the reasons were which urged all prudent
men to caution, it is not to be wondered at that there were
Some of the Calvinistic clergy who refused to give
clergy way. Amongst their ranks 'were to be found some of
the most learned men and the ablest preachers in
England. To them these trifles were of the utmost importance,
because in their eyes they were connected with a great principle.
To Elizabeth they w^ere nothing but trifles, and her anger was
proportionately excited against those who upon such slight
grounds were bringing disunion into the Church, and were
troubling her in the great work which she had undertaken.
For some years she bore with them, and then demanded
obedience, on pain of dismissal from the offices which they
The Queen held. At the Same time she repressed with a strong
sfc^ptagSnst ^ company of Nonconformists who held
them. their meetings in a private house, and committed to
prison those persons who had been present at these gather-
ings.
Those who know what the subsequent history of England
was are able to perceive at a glance that she had brought
herself into a position which could not be permanently main-
tained. As yet, however, the hope that all Englishmen would
continue to hold the same faith, and to submit to the same
ecclesiastical regulations, was still too lively for any earnest
men to see with indifference a separation of which none could
foretell the end. And, at least until the generation had died
out which remembered the enticements of the Roman Catholic
ceremonial, it was only with extreme caution, if at all, that the
resisting clergy could be allowed to take their places in the
different parishes. At a later time the wisest statesmen, with
Burghley at their head, were in favour of a gradual relaxation
of the bonds which pressed upon the clergy. Excepting
perhaps in a few parishes in large towns, the time had not yet
come when this could be done with impunity.
It is unnecessary to say that Elizabeth was influenced by
other motives in addition to these. She regarded with sus-
picion all movements which w'ere likely to undermine^the^
power of the Crown. She saw with instinctive jealousy that
THE TUDOR MONARCHY.
CH. I.
opposition might be expected to arise from these men on other
questions besides the one which was on the surface at the time.
This feeling of dislike was strengthened in her as soon as she
discovered that the controversy had assumed a new phase. In
her eyes Nonconformity was bad enough, but Presbyterianism
was infinitely worse.
Calvinism was, as has been said, a clerical movement ; and
it was only to be expected that the system of Church govern-
Presbyterian meiit and discipline which Calvin had instituted at
gem of Geneva should be regarded with favourable eyes by
government, large numbers of the Protestant clergy. There is
not the smallest reason to doubt that these men honc.stIy
believed that the government of the Church by presbyters,
lay-elders, and deacons was exclusively of Divine appointment.
But it cannot be denied that such a system was more likely to
find acceptance among them than any other in which a less
prominent position had been assigned to themselves. 'Fhc
preacher was the key-stone of Calvin’s ecclesia.stical edifu'e.
Completely freed from any restraint which the authorities of
the State might be inclined to place upon him, he was to be
supreme in his own congregation. This supremacy he was to
obtain, it is true, by the force of eloquence and persuasion
combined with the irresistible power of the great truths which
it was his privilege to utter. His hearers would choose lay-
elders to assist him in maintaining discipline, and in the
general superintendence of the congregation, and deacon.s who
were to manage the finances of the Church. But as long a.s he
had the ear of his congregation he stood upon an eminence
on which he could hardly be assailed with impunity. What-
ever matters involved the interests of more than a single
congregation were to be debated in synods, in whi('h, althougli
laymen were allowed to take no inconsiderable share, the
influence of the ministers was certain to predominate.
In Scotland, where this scheme was carried out, there were
Presbyte- few obstacles to its success. There the aristot'racy
’ipSbie in the Reformation were satisfied,
fQj. the time, with plundering the Church of its pro-
perty, and were far too backward in civilisation to originate any
X55S-I603
PRESS YTERIANISM.
23
ecclesiastical legislation of their own. As a spiritual and in-
tellectual movement, the Scottish Reformation had been
entirely in the hands of the preachers, and it followed as a
matter of course, that the system of Church government which
was adopted by the nation was that which assigned the
principal part to those who were the chief authors of the
change. It is true that, in theory, a considerable influence
was assigned to the laity in the Presbyterian system; but it
was to the laity regarded as members of a congregation, not as
members of a State. In the eye of the Presbyterian clergy,
the king and the beggar were of equal importance, and ought
to be possessed of only equal influence, as soon as they
entered the church doors. Noble as this idea was, it may
safely be said that this organised ecclesiastical democracy could
not flourish upon English soil. England has been Papal,
Episcopal, and Liberal; she has shouted by turns for the
authority of Rome, for the Royal Supremacy, and for the
Rights of Conscience. One thing she has steadily avoided:
she has never been, and it may be afiflrmed without fear of
contradiction that she never will be, Presbyterian.
The nation saw at once that the system cut at the root of
the cardinal principle of the English Reformation, the sub-
jection of the clergy to the lay courts. The Queen occupied
her position as trustee for the laity of England. She expressed
the feelings of the great body of her subjects when she refused
to assent to a change which would have brought an authority
into the realm which would soon have declared itself to be
independent of the laws, and which would have been sadly
subversive of individual freedom, and of the orderly gradations
of society upon which the national constitution rested.
For it is not to be supposed that the Presbyterian clergy
in the sixteenth century claimed only those moderate powers
which are exercised with general satisfaction in
Kepjiided
asunf^TOur present day. The Genevan disci-
.abie to pline was a word of fear in the ears of English lay-
hbcrtj. system which led to its introduction
would, in the opinion of many besides Bacon, be ‘no iess
prejudicial to the liberties of private men than to the sove-^
24 THE TUDOR MONARCHY CH. i.
reignty cf princes,’ although it would be ‘in first show very
popular.’ ^
As a religious belief for individual men, Calvinism was
eminently favourable to the progress of liberty. But the
Calvinistic clergy, in their creditable zeal for the ame-
lioration of the moral condition of mankind, shared
to the full with the national statesmen their ignorance
of the limits beyond which force cannot be profitably employed
for the correction of evil Their very sincerity made it more
injurious to the true cause of virtue to intrust them with the
power of putting into force measures for the rciwcssion of vice
than it was to leave similar powers in the hands of the states-
men of the day. The thousand feelings by which restraints
were laid upon men of the latter class, their prejudices, their
weaknesses, and occasionally even their profligacy itself, com-
bined with their practical sagacity in diminishing the extent
to which they were willing to punish actions which should
never have been punished at all With the Calvinistic clergy
these feelings were totally inoperative. Penetrated with the
hatred of vice, and filled with the love of all that was pure
and holy, they saw no better way of combating evils whicfli
they justly dreaded than by directing against them the whole
force of society, in the vain hope of exterminating them by a
succession of well-directed blows. Of the distinction between
immorality and crime they knew nothing. If they had been
true to their own principles they would have remembered that,
whenever in cases of immorality they failed to purify I)y ad-
monition and exhortation the corruption of the heart, they had
nothing more to do. If it was contrary to spiritual religion
to attract the mind by outwmd forms, it was far more c(
to it to force the mind by external penalties. By an
inconsistency, they allowed this argument to drop out of sight.
They did not, indeed, themselves claim to inflict these punish-
ments \ in theory they had drawn the line top distinctly between
the spheres of the ecclesiastical and the secular jurisdiction to
admit of that. They contented themselves with pronouncing
^ ' Writing ip W^ilsingham’s name, Baroij’i Ldkn mi i, lOO.
155S-1603 PJ^ESBVrJSRIANS AND THE STATE, 25
excommunication against offenders. But in their hands ex-
communication was not merely the merciful prohibition of
the partaking of a Christian sacrament ; it carried with it the
exposure of the guilty person to an intolerable isolation amongst
his fellows, and it finally necessitated a public and degrading
ceremonial before he could again be received into favour.
They went further still. The penalties which they shrunk
from inflicting themselves, should be, in their opinion, carried
Assistance execution by the civil power. Once more
« offenders were to be delivered to the .secular arm,
magistrate
ted to The Scottish second Book of Discipline distinctly
maintain , ^ \ • -t
dibcipiine. enumerates among the functions of the civil magis-
trate the duty of asserting and maintaining ‘ the discipline of
the kirk/ and ‘ of punishing them civilly that will not obey the
censure of the same,’ though it takes care to add, that this is to
be done ‘ without confounding always the one jurisdiction with
the other.’ ^ The same opinion was expressed by Cartwright,
the leader of the English Presbyterians, when he urged that
^the civil magistrate ’ would do well to provide ‘.some sharp
punishment for those that contemn the censure and discipline
of the Church.’ ^
A reservation was expressed of the rights of the civil autho-
rities. But it is plain that Cartwright and his friends regarded
it as the duty of the authorities to inflict iiunishment on those
who resisted the decrees of the Church, without assigning to
them any right of revising those decrees. It was also possible,
that when the civil powers refused to put their decisions in
execution, the ministers might think themselves justified in
stirring up a democratic resistance against a system of govern-
ment which received the approval of the wiser and more
practical portion of the laity.
In taking her stand, as she did, against the abolition of
Episcopacy, Elizabeth was on the whole acting on behalf of the
liberty of her subjects. The simple expedient of allowing the
Presbyterians to introduce their system wherever they could
find congregations who would voluntarily submit to the disci-
Clmp. X.
* Smnd AdmmUmi to Parlmnmit^ p. 49.
26
THE TUDOR MONARCHY,
CH. I.
pline, on condition of their renunciation of all the emoluments
and privileges of their former position, would have been as
repulsive to the ministers themselves, as it certainly was to the
Queen. They asked for no position which was to be held on
sufferance; their claim was, that their system was directly
commanded by the Word of God, and that, without grievous
sin, not a moment could be lost in delivering the whole Church
of England into their hands.
At all costs, if England was not to be thrown into confusion
from one end to the other, some measures must he taken by
English which such consequences might be averted, and the
Episcopacy. Qj^jy coiitrivance that presented itself to the mind of
the Queen was the maintenance of the Episcopal Constitution.
Episcopacy was indeed looked upon in a very different light
from that in which it had been regarded in the days of Becket,
and from that in which it was afterwards regarded in the days of
Laud. To all outward appearance, the position of the Bishops
in the Church of England was the same as that whi('h they
occupied in the following century. The same forms were
observed in their consecration : the functions whi('h they were
called on to fulfil were identical with those which devolved
upon their successors. But whereas in the seventeenth c'entury
they were looked upon as the heads of an ccclesiustic'al system
in alliance with the King, in the sixteenth century they were
mainly regarded as forming the principal part of the mat'Iiincry
by which the clergy were kept in subordination to the State,
The powers vested in the Crown by the Ads of t!\e first
Parliament of Elizabeth were sufficient to keep the C!hurch
down with a strong hand ; but it was thought de.sirable, if
possible, to keep the clergy in order by means of members of
their own body. It is no wonder that the Bishops, who were
regarded by statesmen as guarantees of peace and order, were
looked upon by Presbyterians as traitors to the cause of Christ
and of the Church. All this obloquy they were ready to
endure in order to save the nation from falling away oni'C
more to the Pope. Many of them were probably careless
^whether the Church was to be governed by bishops or by pres-
byters ; almost all of them were ready to agree with those who
1558-1603 THE ELIZABETHAN CHURCH 27
urged the modification of the ceremonies. But they saw in
the state of public feeling enough to make them distrust extreme
measures, and, at the risk of being considered faithless to the
cause which they had most at heart, they offered their services
to the Queen,
The cardinal principle of the English Reformation from a
political point of view, is the doctrine of the Royal Supremacy.
Tiie Royal If wc regard the Sovereign as the representative of
Supremacy, declaration that he is supreme over
all persons and all causes, ecclesiastical as well as civil, may
be justly spoken of as one of the corner-stones of the liberties
of England. It meant, that there should be no escape from
submission to the law of the land, and that justice alone, and
not privilege, was to rule the relations which existed between
the clergy and the people. It was only by a slow process, how-
ever, that the nation could learn what justice really was, and
it was not at a moment when the Queen was bent upon her
great task of smoothing away differences amongst supporters
of the national cause, that she would be likely to look with
favour upon those whose principles threatened to rend the
country asunder, and perhaps to embark it upon such a civil
war as was at that time desolating France. We may sympathise
with Elizabeth, provided that we sympathise also with those
who defied her by raising the standard of the rights of con-
science, and who refused to allow their religious convictions to
be moulded by considerations of political expediency.
It was inevitable that strife, and not peace, should be the
ultimate result of what Elizabeth had done. When Cartwright,
whitgift’s that time Professor of Divinity in the University of
Cambridge, stood forth to defend the Presbyterian
Cartwright, government, he was met by Whitgift with the argu-
ment that there was no reason to imagine that the forms of
Church government were prescribed in the Scriptures. Christ,
he said, having left that government uncertain, it might vary
according to the requirements of the time. He then proceeded
to argue that the existing constitution of the Church of England
was most suitable to the country in the reign of Elizabeth. •
It might be supposed that a principle such as that announced
28
THE TUDOR MONARCHY.
CH. I.
by Whitgift would have inspired the men who held it with
conciliatory sentiments. This, unfortunately, was not the case.
Whitgift and those who thought with him seemed to regard
their opponents as enemies to be crushed, rather than as
friends whose misdirected energies were to be turned into some
beneficial channel. Even the good and gentle Grindal had no
other remedy for Presbyterianism than to send half a dozen of
its most attached disciples to the common gaol at Cambridge,
and another half-dozen to the same destination at Oxford.
But if Grindal forgot himself for a moment, he was soon
able to vindicate his claim to respect as the occupant of the
Grindal, highest scat in the English Church. In one of the
ofcSter-^ gravest crises through which that Church ever passed
he stood forth as her champion, under circumstances
of peculiar difficulty and danger. It was plain that the energies
of the Government could not long continue to be occupied
with merely repressive means, without serious detriment to the
Church, the interest of which those measures were intended to
protect. It was all very well to enact rule.s for the regulation
of questions in dispute ; but unless the conforming clergy could
put forth some of the energy and ability which were to be
found on the opposite side, the Bishops and their regulations
would, sooner or later, disappear together. The Bishops them-
selves were not in fault They had long grieved over the
, condition of the clerg\^ In most i)arishes, the very
dition of men who had sung mass m the days of Wary now
the clergy. scrvicc from the Book of C(«n-
mon Prayer. The livings were generally so small that tliey
offered no inducement to anyone to accc])t them who was
above a very humble station in life. It was well if the incum-
bents could blunder through the prescribed forms, and could
occasionally read a homily.
The consequence of this state of things was, that whilst
churches where sermons were preached were crowded, those
where they were not were deserted. ^ The only hope of a better
state of things lay in the prospect of obtaining ilie services of
' Hooker, jSVf/. /V/., v. xxii. i6.
29
I ssS- 1603 m£ PURITAN CLERG K
the young men of ability and zeal who were growing up to
manhood in the Universities. But such men were generally
found among the Puritans, as the Nonconformists and the
Presbyterians began to be alike called in derision. Unless
some means were employed to attract such men to the existing
order, the cause which Elizabeth had done so much to sustain
was inevitably lost.
About the time that the Presbyterian controversy was at its
height, an attempt was made at Northampton to introduce a
more vigorous life into the Church. The incum-
bent of the parish, in agreement with the mayor
ampton, Organised an association for religious
purposes. Many of their regulations were extremely valuable,
but they allowed themselves to inquire too closely into the
private conduct of the parishioners, and the mayor even lent
his authority to a house-to-house visitation, for the purpose of
censuring those who had absented themselves from the com-
munion. Together with these proceedings, which may well
have been regarded as inquisitorial, sprang up certain meetings,
which were termed Prophesyings. These exercises, which, in
The Pro. some respects resembled the clerical meetings of the
phesyings. present day, were held for the purpose of discussing
theological and religious subjects, and were regarded as a
means by which unpractised speakers might be trained for the
delivery of sermons. Care was to be taken that the meeting
did not degenerate into a debating society.
These Prophesyings spread like wildfire over the kingdom.
They were too well fitted to meet the wants of the time not to
become rapidly popular. Abuses crept in, as they
phesyings always will in such movements j but, on the whole,
Sf the effect was for good-men who had before been
tltTgood unable to preach, acquired a facility of expression,
effect. lukewarm were stirred up, and the backward
encouraged, by intercourse with their more active brethren.
Ten Bishops, with the Archbishop of Canterbury, the venerable
Grindal himself at their head, encouraged these proceedings,
which, as they fondly hoped, would restore life and energy to a ^
THE TUDOR MONARCH K CH. i.
Chuich which was rapidly stiffening into a mere piece of state
machinery.
The Archbishop drew up rules by which the abuses
which had occurred might be obviated for the future. The
meetings were to be held only under the direction of
ffL the Bishop of the diocese, by whom the moderatar
p was to be appointed. The Bishop was to select the
abuses. subject for discussion, and without his permission no
one was to be allowed to speak. This permission was never,
on any account, to be accorded to any layman, or to any
deprived or suspended minister. Any person attacking the
institutions of the Church was to be reported to the Bishop,
and forbidden to take part in the exercises on any future
occasion.
Under such regulations these meetings deserved to prosper.
They were undoubtedly, as Bacon long afterwards said,' when he
urged their resumption, ‘ the best way to frame and train up
preachers to handle the Word of God as it ought to be
handled.’ ^
Unfortunately for herself and for England, the Queen
looked upon these proceedings from a totally opposite point of
Elizabeth sagacity enough to leave unnoticed
regards these Opinions wmich differed from her owm, provided they
whh suS would be content to remain in obscurity, and were
ptcion. before the eye of the public ; but for the
clash of free speech and free action she entertained feelings of
the deepest antipathy. Even preaching itself she regarded with
Her dislike dislikc. Very Carefully choscn persons from amongst
ofpreaching. clergy, on rare occasions, might he allowed to
indulge a select audience with the luxury of a sermon ^ but, in
ordinary circumstances, it would be quite enough if one of the
Homilies, published by authority, w’crc read in the hearing of
the congregation. There would be no fear of any heretical
notions entering into the minds of men who, from one year’s
end to another, never listened to anything but those faultless
Certain Consulcratiom for the letter EstahUshvmU of the Chunk of
England.
1558-1603 PARLIAMENTARY PURITANISM
compositions. If two preachers were to be found in a county,
it was enough and to spare.
With such opinions on the subject of preaching, she at once
took fright when she heard what was going on in different
She takes kingdom. She determined to put a stop
Infokers Prophesyings. Like an anxious mother, who
the suppres- is desiious that her child should learn to walk, but
Prophet- is afraid to allow it to put its foot to the ground,
she conjured up before her imagination the over-
throw of authority which would ensue if these proceedings were
allowed She issued a letter to the Bishops, commanding them
to suppress the Prophesyings.
In spite of the storm which was evidently rising, the brave
old Archbishop took his stand manfully in opposition to the
Grindai Queen. Firmly, but respectfully, he laid before her,
protests, in its true colours, a picture of the mischief she was
doing. He begged her to think again before she committed
an act which would be the certain ruin of the Church. As
for himself, he would never give his consent to that which he
believed to be injurious to the progress of the Gospel. If the
Queen chose to deprive him of his archbishopric, he would
cheerfully submit, but he would never take part in sending out
any injunction for the suppression of the Prophesyings.
Grindal’s remonstrances were unavailing. He himself was
suspended from his functions, and died in deep disgrace. The
and is sus- Prophesyiiigs were put down, and all hope of bring-
pended. j^g waters of that free Protestantism which was
rapidly becoming the belief of so many thoughtful Englishmen,
to flow within the channels of Episcopacy was, for the present,
at an end.
In 1571, shortly before the commencement of the Pro-
phesyings, the House of Commons stepped into the arena.
Twelve years had done much to change the feelings
of Commons of the laity. Old men had dropped into the grave,
the and it was to the aged especially that Protestantism
troversy. found distastcful. The country gentle-
men, of whom the House was almost entirely composed, if they '
adopted Protestant opinions at all, could hardly find any living
THE TUDOR MONARCHY,
Cit. I.
belief in England other than the Calvinism which was accepted by
the ablest and most active amongst the clergy. The Queen’s re -
gulations were, after all, a mere lifeless body, into which the spirit
of religious faith had yet to be breathed. The struggle against
Rome, too, was daily assuming the proportions of a national
conflict. Men, who in ordinary times would have taken little
interest in the dislike of some of the clergy to use certain forms,
were ready to show them favour when they were declaiming
against the adoption of the rags of an anti-national Church,
Nor was the growing feeling of dissatisfaction with the re-
straint put upon personal liberty by the Government, adverse
to the claims of the ministers as long as they were on the per-
secuted side ; although the same feeling would have undoubt-
edly manifested itself on the side of the Crown, if Cartwright
had ever succeeded in putting the Presbyterian system in
operation. ^
Bills were accordingly brought in for amending the Prayer
Book, and for retrenching in some degree the administrative
powers of the Archbishop of Canterbury. But the most re-
markable monument of the temper of the House was an A^ct,*
which was often appealed to in later times, in which confirma-
mation was given to the Thirty-nine Articles. It was enacted
that all ministers should be compelled to subscribe to those
articles only which concerned the Christian fitith and the
doctrine of the Sacraments. By the insertion of the word ' only,’
the House of Commons meant it to be understood tliat no
signature was to be required to the Articles which related to
points of discipline and Church government.
Thus a breach was opened between the two greatest powers
known to the constitution, never to be again closed till the
Breach monarchy had itself disappeared for a time in the
waters of the conflict The Engli.sh Reformation
the Com- _ was, as has been said, the work of the laity of
England, headed by the Sovereign. The House of
question, (^ommons now threatened to go one way, while the
Queen was determined to go another. No doubt, the pro-
X3 Eliz. cap. I2.
ARCHBISHOP WHITGIFT.
33
posals of the Lower House could not always have been
accepted without important modifications. There wTre por-
tions of society which found a truer representation in the
Queen than in the House of Commons. During the greater
part of Elizabeth’s reign, the House of Commons was by no
means the representative body which it afterwards became.
Every member was compelled to take the oath of supremac)',
and a large number of the gentry refused to sit at Westminster
on such terms. If the liberty which the Commons required
for the clergy had been granted, it would have been necessary
to devise new guarantees, in order that the incumbent of a
parish should not abuse his position by performing the duties
of his office in such a manner as to offend his parishioners. In
proportion as the checks imposed by the Government were
diminished, it would have been necessary to devise fresh
checks, to proceed from the congregation, whilst the Govern-
ment retained in its hands that general supervision which
would effectually hinder the oppression of individuals by a
minister supported by a majority of his parishioners.
With a little moderation on both sides, such a scheme
might possibly have been resolved upon. But it was not so to
„ be. Elizabeth has a thousand titles to our gratitude,
quencesof but it should never be forgotten that she left, as
deteinuna- a legacy to her successor, an ecclesiastical system
which, unless its downward course were arrested by
consummate wisdom, threatened to divide the nation into two
hostile camps, and to leave England, even after necessity had
compelled the rivals to accept conditions of peace, a prey to
theological rancour and sectarian hatred.
Matters could not long remain as they were ; unless the
Queen was prepared to make concessions, she must, of neces-
She appoints sity, have recourse to sterner measures. On the
Grindars^* death of Grindal, in 1583, she looked about for a
successor, succcssor who would Unflinchingly carry her views
into execution. Such a man she found in John Whitgift, the
old opponent of Cartwright. Honest and well-intentioned, but
narrow-minded to an almost incredible degree, the one thougTit
which filled his mind was the hope of bringing the ministers of
VOL, I. D
34
TUDOR MONARCHY.
CH. I.
the Church of England at least to an outward uniformity. He
was unable to comprehend the scruples felt by sincere and pious
men. A stop was to be put to the irregularities which prevailed,
not because they were inconsistent with sound doctrine, or
with the practical usefulness of the Churcli, l)ut because they
were disorderly. He aimed at making the Church of England
a rival to the Church of Rome, distinct in her faith, but
equalling her in obedience to authority and in uniformity of
worship.
In order to carry these views into execution, the mac'hinery
of the Court of High Commission was called into existence.
Formation Several temporary commissions had, at various
CoSLS been appointed by virtue of the Act of Su-
Court. premacy, but these powers were all limited in com-
parison with those assigned to the permanent tribunal which
was now to be erected. The Parliament which had, four and
twenty years before, passed the Act under wliit'h the Court
claimed to sit, would have shrunk back with horror if it had
foreseen the use which was to be made of the powers entrusted
by them to the Queen for a very different purpose ; and, sim'e
the accession of Elizabeth, opinion had undergone considerable
changes, in a direction adverse to the principles which were
upheld by the new Archbishop.
The Commission consisted of forty-four pensons, of whom
tv/elve were to be Bishops. Its powers were enormous, and
united both those forms of oppression which were repuKK-c to
all moderate Englishmen. It managed to combine the arbi-
trary tendencies by which the lay courts were at that time
infected with the inquisitorial character of an ecc'lesiaslical
tribunal. The new Court succeeded in loading itself with the
burden of the dislike which was felt against oppression in
either form. In two points alone it was distinguished from the
Inquisition of Southern Europe. It was incompetent to inflict
the punishment of death, and it was not permitted to extract
confessions by means of physical torture.
^ Still, as the case stood, it was bad enough, 'fhe ('ourt
was empowered to inquire into all offences against the Acts
of Parliament, by which the existing ecclesiastical system had
155^ i6o3
THE HIGH COMMISSION,
35
been established ; to punish persons absenting themselves
from church ; to reform all errors, heresies, and schisms which
Powers of might lawfully be reformed according to the laws of
the Court. realm ; to deprive all beneficed clergy who held
opinions contrary to the doctrinal articles, and to punish all
incests, adulteries, fornications, outrages, misbehaviours, and
disorders in marriage, and all grievous offences punishable by
the ecclesiastical laws.
The means which were at the disposal of the Commission,
for the purpose of arriving at the facts of a case, were even
Means of Contrary to the spirit of English law than the
obtaining extent of its po'wcrs. It was, in theory, a principle
evi ence. bound to accuse him-
self, it being the business of the Court to prove him guilty if
it could ; and, although in practice this great principle was
really disregarded, especially in cases where the interests of the
country or of the Government were at stake, the remembrance
of it was certain to revive as soon as it was disregarded by an
unpopular tribunal. The Commission, drawing its maxims
from the civil and canon law, conducted its proceedings on a
totally opposite principle. Its object was to bring to punish-
ment those who were guilty of disobedience to the laws, either
in reality, or according to the opinion of the Court. In the
same spirit as that by which the ordinary judges were actuated
in political cases, the framers of the regulations of the new
Court thought more of bringing the guilty to punishment than
of saving the innocent. But whilst the judges were forced to
content themselves with straining existing forms against un-
popular delinquents, the Commission, as a new tribunal, was
authorised to settle new form.s, in order to bring within its
power men who enjoyed the sympathies of their country-
men.
It would have been almost impossible to have constituted
an English court without assigning to it the power of arriving
at the truth by the ordinary mode, ‘ the oaths of twelve good
and lawful men.’ But, homage having been thus done to tjj^is
time-honoured institution, the Commission proceeded to direct
that recourse might be had to witnesses alone, and even that
THE TUDOR MONARCHY.
CH. 1.
36
conviction might be obtained by ‘ all other ways and means ’
which could be devised.
The meaning of this vague clause was soon evident to all
The Court began to make use of a method of extracting infor-
mation from unwilling witnesses, which was known as the ex-
officio oath. It was an oath tendered to an accused person,
that he would give true answers to such questions as might
be put to him. He was forced not only to accuse himself,
but he was liable to bring into trouble his friends, concerning
whom the Court was as yet possessed of no certain information.
The Archbishop, having thus arranged the constitution of
his Court, drew up twenty-four inten-ogatories of the most
Articles inquisitorial description, which he intended to present
Srpres^nted suspccted pcrsoiis aiuong the clergy, d'hey
to all were not confined to inquiries into the piihlic pro-
fcuspected ~ , , , * , .
clergymen, ceedings of the accuscd, but reached even to his
private conversation. If the unhappy man refused to take the
oath, he was at once to be deprived of his benefice, aiul com-
mitted to prison for contempt of the Court.
The unfortunate clergy appealed to the Ihivy Council.
Whitgift was unable to find a single statesman who apfjrovcd of
The clergy his proceedings. Burghley, with all the indignation
tff Privy which his calm and equable temperament was
Council. capable, remonstrated against tlie tyranny t)f which
the Archbishop was guilty. He told him that his own wishes
were in favour of maintaining the pcac'c of the Church, but
that these proceedings savoured too much of the Komisfi
Inquisition, and were ‘lather a device to seek for offeiulers
than to reform any.’ But Burghley’.s remonstraiK'es were in
vain. Whitgift was not the man to give way when lie had
once decided upon his course, and unhappily he received the
thorough and steady support of Elizabeth, ivhen even tlie.se
harsh measures failed to eifect their object, recourse was had
to the ordinary tribunals, and men w'cre actually sent to execu-
tion for writing libels against the Bishops, on the plea that any
ajitack upon the Bishops was an instigation to .sedition agaiiust
the Queen.
Tt is remarkable that, at the very time when these atrocities
37
1558-1603 THE SEPARATISTS.
were at their worst, the House of Commons, which had never
The mar Opportunity of protesting against the ec-
prelate clesiastical measures of the Queen, began to grow
cool in its defence of the Puritans. This may be
attributed in part to the great popularity which Elizabeth
enjoyed in consequence of the defeat of the Armada, but still
more to the licence which the authors of a series of Puritan
libels allowed themselves.
Moderate men who were startled by these excesses, were
still more disgusted by the spread of what were at that time
Spread of Prownist Opinions, from the name of Robert
Brownist Brown, from whom they had first proceeded. His
opinions. principles were very much those which were after-
wards held by the Independents, His followers considered
that every Christian congregation was in itself a complete
church, and they denied that either the civil government, or
any assembly of clergy, possessed the right of controlling it in
its liberty of action. No other body of men had so clear an
idea of the spiritual nature of religion, and of the evils which
resulted from the dependence of the Church upon the State.
Far from being content, like the old Puritans, with demanding
either a reformation of the Church, or a relaxation of its laws,
the Brownists, or Separatists as they called themselves, were
ready to abandon the Church to its fate, and to establish
themselves in complete independence of all constituted au-
thorities. If they had stopped here, they would have been
unpopular enough. But some of them, at least, goaded by
the persecution to which they were exposed, went to far
greater lengths than this. Holding that ministers ought to
be supported by the voluntary contributions of the people, they
too declared that the whole national Church was anti-Christian,
and to remain in its communion for an instant was to be guilty
of a sin of no common magnitude. From this some of them
proceeded to still more offensive declarations. Whilst dis-
claiming all wish to take the law into their owui hands, they
called upon the Queen to ‘forbid and exterminate all other
religions, worship, and ministers within her dominions.’ ^ ^he^
* H. Barrow’s Piatftym.
THE TUDOR MONARCHY, Ch. I.
ought further, as they said, to seize all the pioperty of the
Church, from the wide domain of the Bishop down to the
glebe land of the incumbent of a country parish.
Terrified by these opinions, the Presbyterian Cartwright
wrote in denunciation of their wickedness. Parliament allowed
Reaction m itself, in iS93, for the first time since the accession
favour of Elizabeth, to pass a statute against Protestants of
the Church , ’ ^
system. any kind.
The latter years of Elizabeth were quieter than the storms
which followed upon the appointment of the High Commission
had indicated. Perhaps the sweep which had been made
from amongst the clergy had left a smaller number of persons
upon whom the Court could exercise its authoiity; perhaps,
also, the dissatisfied, certain that there was no hoi)e of any
change of system as long as Elizabeth lived, leserved them-
selves for the reign of her successor. Such causes, however,
whatever their effect may have been, were not in themselves of
sufficient importance to account for the undoubted leaction
against Puritanism which marked the end of the sixteenth
century.
As, one by one, the men who had sustained the Queen at her
accession dropped into the grave, a generation arose wliicii,
Causes of excepting in books of controversy, knew nothing of
thisreaction, religion which differed from that of tlie Church
of England. The ceremonies and vestments which, in the
time of their fathcis, had been exposed to such hitter attacks,
were to them hallowed as having been entwined with tiu'ir
earliest associations. It required a stiong effort of the imagina-
tion to connect them with the forms of a dcpailecl system
which they had never witnessed with their eyes ; Init they
remembered that those ceremonies had been iisetl, anti those
vestments had been worn, by the clergy who had leil their
players during those anxious days when the AriUvida, yet tm-
conquered, was hovering round the coast, and who hatl, in
their name, and in the name of all true Englishmen, efffered Use
thanksgiving which ascended to heaven alter the great victory
jiad^ been won. By many of them these forms were received
with pleasure for their <iwn sake. In every age there will be a
1558-1603
HOOKER,
39
large class of minds to whom Puritanism is distasteful, not
merely because of the restraint which it puts upon the conduct,
but because it refuses to take account of a large part of human
nature. Directing all its energies against the materialism which
followed the breaking up of the medieval system, it forgot to
give due weight to the influences which affect the spiritual
nature of man through his bodily senses. Those, therefore,
to whom comely forms and decent order were attractive,
gathered round the institutions which had been established in
the Church under the auspices of Elizabeth. In the place of
her first Bishops, who were content to admit these institutions
as a matter of necessity, a body of prelates grew up, who were
ready to defend them for their own sake, and who believed
that, at least in their main features, they were framed in ac-
cordance with the will of God. Amongst the laity, too, these
opinions met with considerable support, especially as the
Protestant ranks had been recruited by a new generation
of converts, which had in its childhood been trained in the old
creed, and thus had never come under the influence of Cal-
vinism. They found expression in the great work of Hooker,
from which, in turn, they received no small encouragement.
But whilst the gradual rise of these sentiments reduced
the Presbyterians to despair, it soon became plain that the
Hooker’s Episcopal party was not of one mind with respect to
the course which should be pursued towards the
Polity.’ Nonconformists. Hooker, indeed, had maintained
that the disputed points being matters w’hich were not ordained
by any immutable Divine ordinance, were subject to change
from time to time, according to the circumstances of the
Church. For the time being, these questions had been settled
by the law of the Church of England, to which the Queen, as
the head and representative of the nation, had given her
assent. Willi this settlement he wms perfectly content, and he
advised his opponents to submit to the law which had been
thus laid down. Upon looking closely, however, into Hooker’s
great work, it becomes evident that his conclusions are based
upon tivo distinct arguments, ivhich, although they ii^re
blended together in his own mind at some sacrifice of logical
THE TUDOR MONARCHY. CH. i
Drecision, were not likely in future to find favour at the same
time with any one class of reasoners. When he argues from
Scripture, and from the practice of the early Church, the as yet
undeveloped features of Bancroft and Laud are plainly to be
discerned. When he proclaims the supremacy of law, and
weighs the pretensions of the Puritans in the scales of reason,
he shows a mind the thoughts of which are cast in the same
mould with those of that gi’eat school of thinkers of whom
Bacon is the acknowledged head. Hooker’s greatness indeed,
like the greatness of all those by whom England was ennobled
in the Elizabethan age, consisted rather in the entireness of his
nature than in the thoroughness with which his particular
investigations were carried out. Pie sees instinctively the
unity of truth, and cannot fail to represent it as a living whole.
It is this which has made him, far more than others who were
his superiors in consistency of thought, to !>e regardeti as the
representative man of the Church of England.
It soon appeared that the desire to hold a middle course
between the rival ecclesiastical parties was not confined (o a
Orowin^ few advanced thinkers. There was a large and in-
favoufof creasing number of the laity who regarded the
toleration, problem in Hooker’s spirit, though they were dis-
satisfied with his solution of it Even men who themselves
admired the forms of worship prescribed by the C'hurt'h, and
who felt all Hooker’s dislike of ITcsbyterianism, nevmlheless,
without any very deep reasoning, came to a predsely opposite
conclusion. They were not yet the ]>urtisans that their
children came to be, and they were more anxious to prc'scu’ve
the unity of the English Church than the forms wliieh were
rapidly making that unity impos.sible. If these ceiemonies
were only imposed by the law of tlie land for the sake of
uniformity, without its lieing protended that they were other-
wise than of merely human origin, ouglU not that law to he
relaxed? Everywhere tlicre was aery for preacliens. Whilst
bishops and ministers were wrangling about points of mere
detail, thousands of tlicir fellow-countrymen were living like
^herthens. It was to be regretted that so many of those wlio
were capable of preaching should be so scrupulou.s aliuut
1558-1603 HOOKER, SPENSER, AND CERVANTES. 41
matters of little consequence j but was it necessary, on account
of these scruples, to disturb the peace of the Church by the
expulsion of those who felt them ? Was it well that faithful
and pious men who preached the same doctrine as that which
was held by their conforming brethren, and whose lives gave
at least as good an example as that of any bishop in England,
should be cut short in their career of usefulness merely in or-
der that the clergyman who officiated in one parish might not
scandalise the sticklers for uniformity by wearing a surplice, whilst
the clergyman who officiated in the next parish wore a gown ?
Hooker’s great work had more than a theological significance.
It was the sign of the reunion of Protestantism with the new
Protestant- learning of the Renaissance. In the beginning of
Elizabeth’s reign the current of thought had not
filled the forms of the Elizabethan Church. In
the end of the reign it was flowing in steadily, basing itself on
large enquiry, and on distrust of dogmatic assertion. Religion
began to partake of the many-sidedness of the world around it,
and Hooker w^as a worthy peer of Spenser and of Shakespeare.
Those last fifteen years of Elizabeth, in truth, were years in
which many opposing elements were being fused together into
harmonious co-operation. Those who wish to understand the
position which England occupied during these years of our
history would do well to place side by side the three great
works of the imagination in w^hich three men of genius embalmed
the chivalric legends of the Middle Ages.
The w'ork of the Italian Ariosto stands distinguished for the
distance at which it lies from all contemporary life. The poet
of the 'Orlando Furioso ’ ^vanders in an ideal realm
The
'Orlando of courtesy and valour of w'hich the world around
tunobo. knew nothing. If his Italian readers ever
thought of Italy, it could only be to sigh over the downfall of so
many hopes.
Far different is thew'ork of Cervantes. To him the legends
‘Don w'hich seemed so bright in the eyes of the Italian
Quixote.’ become ridiculous . He could see nothing but
the absurdity of them. Regarded from this point of vi(^, ^
‘Don Quixote’ becomes the saddest book which was ever written.
42
THE TUDOR MONARCHY.
CH. I.
It is the child mocking at his father’s follies, whilst he closes
his eyes to his nobleness and his chivalry.
Shortly before the appearance of ‘Don Quixote’ another
book saw the light amongst a very different people. To
Spenser, nursed as he had been amongst the glories
^ of the reign of Elizabeth, all that was noble in the
Ei”abeth?n old tales of chivalry had become a living reality.
The ideal representations of the knights and damsels
who pass before our view in his immortal poem, bring into
our memory, without an effort, the champions who defended
the throne of the virgin Queen, In England no great chasm
divided the present from the past. Englishmen were not
prepared to nnd matter for jesting in the tales which had
delighted their fathers, and they looked upon their history as
an inheritance into which they themselves had entered.
Great achievements do not make easy the task of the men
who succeed to those by whom they have been mx'ompli.shed.
, . The work of the Tudors had been to complete the
Difficulties ^ .... , , . ...
bequeathed edifice of national independence by nationalising
the Church. In the course of the artluoii.s .struggle
they had claimed and had obtained powers greater
than those possessed by any former Engli.sh kings. The very
success which they had attained rendered those ptnvers
unnecessary. The institutions established by them had out-
lived their purpose. The strong vindication of the rights of
the State which had been necessary when leligious differences
threatened civil war, had ceased to be nec'cssary when j>ea('e
was assured. The jirerogative of the Crown would lu'cd to
be curtailed when it was ajjplied to lo.ss imptirtant ohjeets
than the maintenance of national unity. Vet such I'hanges,
desirable in themselves, were not cusy to accomplish. 'J'he
mental habit by which institutions are supportetl <h>es not
readily pass away. As l^lizabeth giewokl, it was generally felt
that great changes were impending.
She herself knew that it must ho so. 1’he very success of
her career must have made it appear have lieen almost a
kfflure. Men were everywhere asking hn' greater relaxation
than she had been willing to give to them.
43
rSS^-i 6 o 3 END OF THE TUDOR MONARCHY,
Whatever was to come of it, the next age must take care of
itself. Of one thing she felt sure, that no puppet of Spain or of
Elizabeth’s the Jesuits would ever wear the crown of England
death. » ]^y gg^t hath been the seat of kings, and I will have
no rascal to succeed me,” she said, as she lay dying. When she
was pressed to explain her meaning, she declared that her wish
was that a king should follow her. “ And who should that be,”
she added, ‘‘but our cousin of Scotland? ” Her last act was to
hold her hands over her head in the form of a crown, with the
intention, as it was thought, of conveying to the bystanders the
impression that she would be followed by one who was already
a King.^ So, early on the morning of March 24, 1603, the great
Queen passed away from amongst a people whom she had
loved so well, and over whom, according to the measure of
human wisdom, she had ruled so wisely.
Her forebodings were realised. Evil times were at hand.
They followed her death, as they had followed the death of
her father.
When such sovereigns as the two great Tudors die, it
seems as if the saying which the poet has put into the mouth
of the crafty Antony were the rule which prevails in the
world —
The evil that men do lives after them ;
The good is oft interred wilh their bones.
Errors and follies soon produce their accustomed fruits. Tut
when the error has been but the accompaniment of great and
noble deeds, the fruit of those deeds is not long in making its
way into the world. Henry VIII. must be judged by the great
men who supported his daughter’s throne, and who defended
the land which he set free when ‘he broke the bonds of Rome.’
Elizabeth must be judged by the Pyms and Cromwells, who,
little as she would have approved of their actions, yet owed
their strength to the vigour with which she headed the re-
sistance of England against Spanish aggression. She had
cleared the way for liberty, though she understood it not.
* The fullest and apparently the most authentic account is that
lished in Disraeli’s Curiosities of Literature (1849), iii. 364.
44
CHAPTER II.
CHURCH AND STATE IN SCOTLAND.
Whisn Elizabeth died, one great question was already pressing
solution— the question of the relationship between the
i(5o 3. national Church and the dissidents on cither hand
1 — which was destined to agitate the minds of men
as long as Stuart kings reigned in England. It was
a question to w'hich the successor of Elizabeth was not alto-
get her a stranger, though his mode of dealing with it in Scotland
gave little reason to hope that he would deal suct'cssfully with
it in England.
In many respects the aspect of Scotland in the sixteenth
century was the reverse of that of England. I'hcmost remark-
able feature of Elizabethan England was the harnK)!)}’ whit'h
resulted from the interdependence upon one another of the
1560-1572.' various elements of which the national life was
Contrast be- coiuposed. To thc novth of the Tweed, the same
elements for the most jiarl reappeared; hut they
Scotland. Standing out sharj) and clear, in well-
defined contrast to one another. I'he clergy were more dis-
tinctly clerical, thc boroughs more isolated and self-contained,
and, above all, the nobles retained tlie old turbulence of
feudalism which had long ceased to be tolerated in any othei
country in Europe.
When the Reformation first passed over vSi'olland, there
was a momentary prospect of a change which might to some
extent obliterate the existing distinctions, and give ri.se to a
real national union. Noble and burgher, rich and poor, joined
1560-72 THE SCOTTISH REF0RMA7I0N.
45
with the preachers in effecting the overthrow of the medieval
Church j and it was by no means the intention of Knox and
Knox’s his fellow-labourers to erect a new hierarchy upon the
Chwch^ ^he old According to their theory, there was
government, to be no longer any distinction between the laity and
the clergy, excepting so far as the latter were set apart for the
performance of peculiar duties. Of the forty-two persons who
took their seats in the first General Assembly of the Church
of Scotland only six ^vere ministers. Barons and earls were
admitted to its consultations without any election at all. So
far as the first Reformers had any distinct idea of the nature
of the Assembly which they had called into being, they in-
tended it to be a body in which the nation should be re-
presented by those who were its natural leaders, as well as
by those who had a closer connection with ecclesiastical affairs.
Such a scheme as this, however, was doomed to failure from
the first. Here and there might be found individuals amongst
Desertion of high nobility who gave themselves heart and
by^hSgh Church of the Reformation, but, for the
nobihty. i^ost part, the earls and lords were satisfied as soon
as they had gorged themselves with the plunder of the abbey
lands. They had no idea of meeting on terms of equality with
the humble ministers, and they cared little or nothing for the
progress of the Gospel. Nor \vas it indifference alone which
kept these powerful men aloof : they had an instinctive feeling
that the system to which they owed their high position was
doomed, and that it was from the influence which the preachers
were acquiring that immediate danger was to be apprehended
to their own position. A great Scottish nobleman, in fact, was a
very different personage from the man who was called by a simi-
lar title in England. He exercised little less than sovereign
authority over his own district. Possessed of the power of life
and death within its limits, his vassals looked up to him as
the only man to whom they were accountable for their actions.
They were ready to follow him into the field at his bidding,
and they were seldom long allowed to remain at rest There
was always some quarrel to be engaged in, some neighbouritg ,
lord to be attacked, or some hereditary insult to be avenged
46 CHURCH AND STATE IN SCOTLAND. CH. n.
With the physical force which was at the disposal of the
aristocracy, the ministers were for the time unable to cope.
But they had on their side that energy of life which
is certain, sooner or later, to translate itself into
power. It was not merely that, \vith scarcely an ex-
ception, all the intellect of Scotland w^as to be found in thei.
ranks ; their true strength lay in the undeviating firmness with
which they bore witness for the law of God as the basis of all
human action, and the vigorous and self-denying activity with
which they called upon all who w^ould listen to them to shake
off the bonds of impurity and vice. How was it possible that
there should long be agreement between the men whose whole
lives were stained with bloodshed and oppression, and the men
who were struggling, through good repute and evil repute, to
reduce to order the chaos in which they lived, and to make
their native country a land of godliness and peace?
The compromise to which the nobility came with the
ministers at Leith, in 1572, was for the aristocracy one of those
TheTuichan apparent victories which give a certain presage of
Bishops. future defeat. Sorely against their will, the <’lergy
were driven to consent to the institution of a Protestant
Episcopate. The burghs and the lesser gentry were no match
for the vassals of the great lords, and they were compelled to
give way. But it was not a concession which did any credit
to those to whom it had been made. They had not one single
thought to spare for the country, or for the Church of who.se
interests they were thus summarily disposing. All they cared
about was the wealth which might be gained by the scheme
which they had adopted The Bishops were to l)e duly con-
secrated, not in order that they might take part in that govern-
ment of the clergy which is assigned to them in 1 'episcopalian
churches, but in order that they might have .some legal title
to hand over the greater part of their revenues to the nobles to
whom they owed their see.s. From that moment lilpiscopacy
was a doomed institution in Scotland. It was impossildc for
any man to submit to become a Bishop without losing every
rt'mnant of the self-respect which he might originally have
possessed. I'he moral strength which Presbyterianism gained
SCOTTISH PRESBYTERIANISM.
47
1581
from this compromise was incalculable. It soon became the
earnest belief of all who were truthful and independent in the
nation, that the Presbyterian system was the one divinely
appointed mode of Church government, from which it was
Doctrine of deviate in the slightest degree. Whatever
the Divine credit must be given to Andrew Melville for his share
right of , .... .... . , ,
Presbyte- in producing this conviction, It IS certain that the dis-
nanibm. reputable spectacle of the new Episcopacy was far
more effective than any arguments which he was able to use.
In 1581 the Second Book of Discipline received the appro-
val of the General Assembly. By it the Church pronounced
i^si. its unqualified acceptance of those Presbyterian in-
Booifof°"'^ stitutions which, with some slight modifications,
Discipline finally overcame all opposition, and have maintained
themselves to the present day. During the years which had
passed since the introduction of the Reformation, the Assembly
was becoming less national, and more distinctly ecclesiastical.
Its strength lay in the fact that it represented all that was best
and noblest in Scotland, and that its Church Courts gave a
political education to the lower and middle classes, which they
could never find in the Scottish Parliament. Its w^eakness lay
in the inevitable tendency of such a body to push principles to
extremes, and to erect a tyranny over men’s consciences in
order to compel them to the observance of moral and ecclesias-
tical law^s. The censures of the Church fell heavily as well
upon the man who kept away from church on the Lord’s Day,
as on the loose-liver and the drunkard. Under the eye of the
minister of the parish, the kirk-session gathered to inflict
penalties on offenders, and in the kirk-session no regard was
paid to worldly rank. The noblemen, who disdained to meet
pious cobblers and craftsmen on an equal footing, naturally
kept aloof from such gatherings.
That the Presbyterian assemblies should become political
institutions, was probably unavoidable. To them the Calvin-
Poiitkai istically interpreted Bible was the Divine rule of
life. Kings and nobles were to be honoured and
Assemblies, obeyed, SO far as they conformed to it, and devofbdi#
their lives to the carrying out its principles in practice.
48 CHURCH AND STATE IN SCOTLAND. CH. il
If they did not— and of their failure to do so die clergy were
to be the sole interpreters — it was the duty of the Church, as
in the Middle Ages it had been held to be the duty of the
Popes, to withstand them to the face, Presbyterianism did not
ask merely to be let alone to pursue its spiritual course un-
hindered, it asked that the authorities of the State should
become its instruments for the establishment upon earth of a
kingdom as like that of heaven as it was possible to attain to.
Of individual liberty, of the manifold luxuriance of human
nature, Presbyterianism knew nothing j but it did much to
encourage resistance to the arbitrary power of rulers. It set
its face like a flint against any assumption of Divine right,
except by its own assemblies. It called upon kings to conform
their actions to a definite law. If kings were to master it, it
could only be by an appeal to a law wider and more consonant
to the facts of nature than its own.
It was inevitable that the Scottish Church at the end of the
sixteenth century should entangle itself, not merely in questions
relating to the enforcement of the ecclesiastical law, but even
in strictly political questions. In those day.s every religious
question was also a political one, and the compact organisation
of the Scottish Church enabled it to throw no slight weight
into the scale. With a wild, defiant feudalism surging around,
and an enraged Catholic Europe ready to take advantage
of any breach in the defences of Protestantism, the Scottish
Church felt that every political movement involved a question
of life or death for the nation of whidi it was in .some sort the
representative.
If, indeed, the ministers who guided the assemblie.s, and
through them the various congregations, could have had the
assurance that their Sovereign was a man whom llu'y could
trust, much mischief might have Ijeen spared. James VI.,
Character of indeed had many qualities befitting a ruler in such
James. difificult tiiucs. Good-hiimourcd and goo<l-n:Uurcd,
he was honestly desirous of increasing the prosperity of lus
subjects. His mental powers were of no common order ; his
-irfemory was good, and his learning, especially on theological
points, was by no means contemptible. He was intellectually
49
CHARACTER OF JAMES.
tolerant, anxious to be at peace with those whose opinions
aiffered fiom his own. He was above all things eager to be a
reconciler, to make peace where there had been war before,
and to draw those to live in harmony who had hitherto glared
at one another in mutual defiance. He was penetrated with a
strong sense of the evil of fanaticism.
These merits were marred by grave defects. He was too
self-confident to give himself the pains to unravel a difficult
problem, and had too weak a perception of the proportional value
of things to enable him to grasp the important points of a case
to the exclusion of those which were merely subsidiary. With
a thorough dislike of dogmatism in others, he was himself the
most dogmatic of men, and — most fatal of all defects in a ruler
— he was ready to conceive the worst of those who stood up
against him. He had none of that generosity of temper which
leads the natural leaders of the human race to rejoice when
they have found a worthy antagonist, nor had he, as Elizabeth
had, that intuitive perception of the popular feeling which
stood her in such stead during her long career. Warmly
affectionate to those with whom he was in daily intercourse, he
never attached himself to any man who was truly great. He
mistook flattery for devotion, and though his own life was pure,
he contrived to surround himself with those of whose habits
there was no good report It was easy for his favourites to
abuse his good-nature, provided that they took care not to
wmund his self-complacency. Whoever would put on an
appearance of deference, and would avoid contradicting him
on the point on wffiich he happened to have set his heart at the
moment, might lead him anywhere.
Unhappily, when James grew up to manhood, he was in
the hands of unworthy favourites, who taught him the lesson
Position of clergy were his true enemies. These favour-
jamcs. known to be acting under the influence of
the French Court, and it was strongly suspected that they were
likely to favour the re-estabiishment of the Papal system by the
help of foreign armies. Under such circumstances, the struggle
in which- the clergy were engaged speedily assumed a now
form : it was no longer a question whether the property of the
VOL. 1. E
CHURCH AND STATE IN SCOTLAND. CH, li.
50
Church should be simoniacally conveyed away to a few degraded
nominees of the nobility : it was a question whether, in the hour
of Scotland’s danger, free words might be spoken to warn the
misguided King of the ruin which he was allowing his favourites
to prepare for himself and for his subjects.
James determined to make the ministers feel that force
was still on his side. He knew that the greater part of the
1584. nobility would concur with pleasure in any measure
Therestora- whicli Served to depress the clergy, and in 1584 he
Sion to"*' obtained from Parliament the Acts by which the
ihe Bishops, government of the Church was placed in the
hands of the Bishops.
For two years the struggle lasted between the King and the
clergy, with various fortunes. As the end of that time James
could not help perceiving that liis oj)poncnts were,
.Tames more in somc degree, in the right In 1586 the King
themims° of Spain was making preparations for the invasion of
England ; and if the throne of Elizabeth were over-
turned, Scotland could hardly hope to c.scape destriuition.
James had no wish to become a vassal of Spain and of the
Pope, and he entered into a league with Ivngland for mutual
defence against the enemy by whom both kingdoms were
threatened. Such a change of policy naturally removed the
principal obstacles to a reconciliation between the King and
the clergy, and though it was impossible that any cordial sym-
pathy should spring up between them, that kind of agreement
existed which is frequently found between persons of a dis-
similar temperament who are united in the pursuit of a common
object. In spite of constant bickerings the King, step l)y step*
relaxed his pretensions, and at last, in 1592, gave his consent to
an Act by which Presbyterianism was established in its integrity.
It was unlikely that this unanimity would last long. ’ I'he
quarrel, however, sprang up again sooner than might have been
1593. expected. Early in 1593 a ('onspirary was detccletl,
Defeat of the in which thc Eurls of Pluntly, Errol, and Angus were
earls by implicated. Like so many others of the nobility,
they had never accepted thc Protestant doctrines,
and their great power in tlie north-eastern shire.s made them
1593 the northern NOBLES. 51
simost unassailable. If they had been let alone they would
probably have remained contented with their position, caring as
little for the King of Spain as tney did for the King of Scotland.
But the ministers were bent upon the total extirpation of Popery,
and the earls were led to place their hopes in a Spanish invasion.
Such an invasion would free them from the assaults of a religion
which was perhaps quite as unacceptable to them from its poli-
tical consequences as from the theological doctrines which it
propounded James, when he discovered what was passing,
marched at once into the North, and drove the earls headlong
out of their domains.
With one voice the clergy cried out for the forfeiture of the
lands of the rebels, and for harsh measures against the Catholics.
He hesitates J^mes, on his part, hung back from taking such steps
these. Even if he had the will, it may be doubted
victory. whether he had the power to carry out the wishes of
the ministers. The nobles who had led their vassals against
Huntly and his confederates might be willing enough to render a
Spanish invasion impossible, but they would hardly have looked
on with complacency at the destruction of these great houses,
in which they would have seen a precedent which might after-
wards be used against themselves.^ Nor was the power of the
earls themselves such as to be overthrown by a single defeat ;
every vassal on their broad domains was attached to them by
ties far stronger than those which bound him to his Sovereign ;
and if their land were confiscated, many years would pass before
* "I have been the day before the date of these with the King to receive
answer in writing according to his promise. He hath deferred the same till
my next lepair. The effect I know ; and it tendetli to satisfy her Majesty
with all promise on his part. But he disableth himself of means against
the purposes of these great men who have embraced Spanish assistances
in so dangerous degree. ... As for the nobility of this land, they be so
interallied, as, notwithstanding the religion they profess, they tolerate the
opposite courses of the adverse pait, and excuse or cloke the faults com-
mitted. The assured party is of the ministers, barons, and burghs. With
these the King is bound, as he cannot suddenly change his course appa-
rently. But yet of his secret harkenings by the mediation of them wjjo
be in special credit with him he is suspected.” — Bowes to Burghlcy,'*
March 30, 1593, .S'. R. Scotl. 1 . 47.
p CHURCH AND RTATH IN SCOTLAND. CH. n.
the new owners could expect to live in safety without the
support of a powerful military force.
It can hardly be supposed, indeed, that James was in-
fluenced by no other motives than these. He was probably
unwilling to crush a power which served to counterbalance
that of the ministers, and he lent a ready ear to the solicita-
tions of the courtiers who were around him. The earls were
once more too strong to be put down without another war. At
last he declared that they were to receive a full pardon for all
that was past, but that they, as well as all other Catholics in
Scotland, must either embrace the Protestant faith or leave the
kingdom. If they chose the latter alternative they were to be
allowed to retain their possessions during their exile.
Such an award as this drew down upon the King the wrath
of both parties. The ministers reviled it as over-lenient to
1S94 Popery, and the Catholics looked upon it as an act of
intolerable persecution. Huntly and Errol refused
to accept the terms, and succeeded in defeating the
troops which were sent against them under the Earl of Argyle.
Upon receiving the news of this disaster James once more
marched into the north, the ministers having supported him with
the money of which he was in need. The success of the Royal
arms was immediate. All resistance was crushed at once, and
the earls themselves were forced to take refuge on the Continent
This victory may be considered to be the turning-point
of James’s reign in Scotland. It established decisively not
only that the nation was determined to resist foreign
Jofi?Kbg’s interference, but that the King had now a national
victory. (disposal wdiicli even the greatest of the
nobility were unable to resist The Scottish aristocrat'y would
long be far too powerful for the good of their fellow-country-
men, but they would no longer be able to beard their Sovereign
with impunity.
In the summer of 1596, Huntly and Errol were once
1556. more in Scotland But this time they did not come
Return of to Icvy war upon the King ; they were content to
skulk in various hiding-places till they could receive
permission to present themselves before him.
11,96
ANDREW MELVILLE.
53
James was not disinclined to listen to their overtures. To
drive the earls to the last extremity w'ould be to ruin the work
of pacification which he had so successfully accomplished.
Ffe had no wish to undertake a crusade in which he would
find little assistance from any but the ministers and their
supportersj and w^hich would raise against him a feeling in
the whole of the North of Scotland which might cause him no
little trouble in the event of a contest arising for the English
succession. On the other hand, he may well have thought that
the earls had now learned that they were no longer capable
of measuring themselves against their Sovereign, and that
they would in future refrain from any treasonable under-
takings.
These views, which were justified by the event, and in
which he was supported by the statesmen by whom he was
now surrounded, were not likely to find much favour with the
clergy. Towards the end of August, a convention of the
Estates was held at Falkland to consider what course was to be
Convention taken ; and certain ministers who, as it is said, were
at Falkland, give a favourable reply, were summoned to
declare their opinions. Amongst them, Andrew Melville pre-
sented himself, uninvited. He was the Presbyterian leader of
the day, with a mind narrower than that of ICnox, the champion
of a system rather than a spiritual guide. He had come, he
said, in the name of Christ Jesus the King, and his Church, to
charge James and the Estates with favouring the enemies of both.
Those w'ho were present paid little heed to such objections as
these, and gave it as their opinion, that if the earls would satisfy
the King and the Church, it would be well to restore them to
their estates.
Upon hearing what had passed, the Commissioners of the
General Assembly, who were appointed to watch over the in-
Meetin of Church, during the intervals between
the ministers the meetings of that body, invited a number of
at Cupar, j^-^injsters to assemble at Cupar. These ministers, as
soon as they had met together, determined to send a deputation
to the King. This deputation was admitted to his presence^
but when they began to lay their complaints before him, he
54
CHURCH AND STATE IN SCOTLAND, at ii.
interrupted them by questioning their authority to meet with-
out a warrant from himself. Upon this, Melville, who was one
of the deputation, seized him by the sleeve, and calling him
Melville and ‘God’s silly vassal,’ told him, in tones which must
the King. jQjjg in his ears, that there were two kings
and two kingdoms in Scotland: “There is Christ Jesus the
King,’' he said, “and his kingdom the Church, whose subject
King James VI. is, and of whose kingdom not a king, nor a lord,
nor a head, but a member. And they w^hom Christ has called
and commanded to watch over his Church, and govern his
spiritual kingdom, have sufficient power of him and authority
so to do, both together and severally ; the which no Christian
King nor Prince should control and discharge, but fortify and
assist.” He concluded by saying that the King’s wish to be
served by all sorts of men, Jew and Gentile, Papist and Pro-
testant, was devilish and pernicious. He was attempting
to balance the Protestants and the Papists, in order that he
might keep them both in check. By such a plan as this, he
would end by losing both.^
There was enough of truth in all this to make it tell upon
the King. It is highly probable that the scheme which
Melville thus dragged out to the light had more to do with
his conduct towards the earls than any enlightened views on
the subject of toleration. He was now frightened at Melville’.s
vehemence, and promised that nothing should be done for the
returned rebels till they had once more left the country, and
had satisfied the Church.
On October 20, the Commissioners of the General Assembly
met at Edinburgh. They immediately wrote to all the presby-
The Com- terics in Scotland, informing them that the earls had
returned, with the evident purpose of putting down
and ma.ssacring the followers of tlic Go.speI, and
that it was probable that the King would take them under his
protection. Under these circumstances, every minister was
to make known to his congregation the true nature of the
impending danger, and to stir them up to resistance. In the
J. Melville’s Diary, 368-371.
1596
THE KING AND THE MINISTERS,
55
meanwhile, a permanent Commission was to sit in Edinburgh
to consult upon the perils of the Church and kingdom. Such a
step might or might not be justifiable in itself, but there could
be no doubt that it was an open defiance of the Government.
From that moment a breach between the clergy and the Crown
was inevitable.^
Of all the controversies which still perplex the historical
inquirer, there is perhaps none which is more eminently un-
Character of Satisfactory than that which has been handed down
quarrel from the sixteenth century on the subject of the
between the , i. .
King^and quarrel between James and the clergjh It is easy to
theciergj. aspiring to political supremacy the clergy
exceeded the proper limits of their office, and that in this
particular instance they were animated by a savage spirit of
intolerance. It is equally easy to say that they had no reason
to repose confidence in James, and that the stopping of their
mouths would be a national misfortune, as the freedom of the
pulpit furnished the only means by which the arbitrary ten-
dencies of the Sovereign could be kept in check. The fact
seems to have been, that whilst the victory either of the King
or of the clergy was equally undesirable, it was impossible to
suggest a compromise by which the rupture could have been
prevented. There was nothing in existence which, like the
English House of Commons, could hold the balance even.
Partly from the social condition of the country, and partly
from the fact that the Scottish Parliament had never been
divided into two Houses, that body was a mere instrument in
the hands of the King and of the nobility ; and if the mouths
of the clergy were to be stopped, there remained no means
by which the nation could be addressed excepting at the
pleasure of the Government.
The weakness of the cause of the ministers lay in this —
, that they defended on religious grounds what could
the cause of Only be justified as apolitical necessity. I hat the
the clergy. Assembly was in some sort a substitute
for a real House of Commons ; that the organization of the
’ Ca/dn '’uoolf v. 443.
56 CHURCH AND STATE IN SCOTLAND. CH. ii.
Church had been invaluable in counteracting the exorbitant
power of the nobility and the thoughtless unwisdom of the
King; and that the liberty of speech on political subjects which
had been preserved in the pulpit had done service for which
Scotland can never be sufficiently thankful, are propositions
which no candid reader of the history of those times will ever
venture to deny. But when the ministers asserted that these
things were part of the Divine endowment of the Church, and
claimed to maintain their ground in spite of all human ordin-
ances to the contrary, they committed themselves to an assertion
which was certain to rouse opposition wherever the institutions
of a lay society were regarded with honour.
As the guardian of the interests of lay society James was
thoroughly justified in resisting the claim of the clergy to
play in Scotland the part of the medieval Papacy. It was
some time, however, before he made up his mind that it
w^ould be safe to oppose the clergy, and he probably clung to
Negotia- the hope that some amicable arrangement might still
t*h "eSf possible. He directed four members of the JMvy
missioners. Council to hold an interview with a deputation of the
Commissioners, to declare, in his name, that he w'ould do
nothing for the earls or their followers till they had satisfied
the Church : and to ask whether, if the Church should think fit
to release them from the e.xcommunication which had been
pronounced against them, he might receive them again into
favour. To these propositions the ministers gave a decided
answer. They reminded the King of his promise that he would
not listen to the earls till they had again left the counlr}'.
When they were once more out of Scotland, then, and not till
then, the Church would hear what they had to say. But even
if the Church saw fit to release them from its sentence, the
King might not show favour to men who were under sentence
of death for rebellion.
Some few days before this interview took place, Bowes, the
English Resident at the Scottish Court, was in-
sermon. formed that David Black, one of the ministers of
^ Andrews, had, in preaching, used e.xpressions insulting to
the Queen and Church of England Although he was at that
1596
THE KING^S DEMANDS.
S7
time actively engaged in supporting the ministers in their op-
position to the King, he thought it right to protest against
Black’s offence. He found that James had already heard of
the affair, and was determined to take steps to bring the offender
to punishment^
Accordingly, when, a day or two after, the Privy Councillors
reported the unyielding temper in which their proposals had
The King’s ^een received by the ministers, the King replied to
demands. ^ deputation of the clergy, which had come for the
purpose of complaining of their grievances, by telling them,
plainly that there could be no good agreement between him
and them till the limits of their respective jurisdictions had
been more clearly defined. For his part he claimed that, in
preaching, the clergy should abstain from speaking of matters
of state ; that the General Assembly should only meet when
summoned by him ; that its decisions should have no validity
till after they had received his sanction ; and that the Church
* “I received from "Roger Ashton this letter enclosed, and containing
such dishonourable effects against Her Majesty as I have thought it my
duty to send the letter to your Lordship. . . . The King, I perceive, is
both privy to this address made to me, and alsointendeth to try the matters
objected against Mr. David Black. . . . The credit of the authors of this
report against him is commended to be good and famous. Nevertheless,
he hath (I hear) flatly denied the utterance of any words in pulpit or pri-
vately against Her Majesty, offering himself to all torments upon proof
thereof. Yet, seeing the offence is alleged to have been publicly done by
him in his sermons, and to be sufficiently proved against him by credible
witnesses, I shall therefore call for his timely trial and due punishment”
(Bowes to Burghley, Nov. i, 1596, S. P. ScotL^ lix. 63). Astons account
in the letter enclosed and dated Oct. 31 is as follows About fourteen
days since, Mr. David Black, minister of St. Andrews, in two or three of
his seimons . . . most unreverently said that Her Majesty was an atheist,
and that the religion that was professed there was but a show (?) of reli-
gion guided and directed by the Bishop’s injunctions ; and they could not
be content with this at home, hut would persuade the King to bring in the
same here, and thereby to be debarred of the liberty of the word. This
is spoken by persons of credit to the King, who is highly offended, and at
his coming to Edinburgh will bring the matter in trial.” These extracts
show that the charge against Black was a bond fide resistance to an insult
supposed to have been directed against the Queen, and not a mere schei^
to get up an attack against the privileges of the Church.
CHURCH AND STATE IN SCOTLAND. CH. ii.
courts should not meddle with causes which properly came
under the cognisance of the law of the landd
According to the ideas which are prevalent in our own day,
these demands could only be met either by a frank renuncia-
tion of the independent position which had been assumed by
the clergy, followed by a request for permission to retain those
rights which upon impartial investigation could be shown to be
advantageous to their congregations, or by a denial that the
State was sufficiently organised to make it probable that justice
would be done to them if they renounced their exclusive
privileges.
Such a reply was not likely to be made in the sixteenth
century. The Edinburgh Commissioners, as soon as they
heard what had passed, prepared to defend themselves against
an attack upon "what they considered to be the purely
spiritual privileges of the Church. To them all interference
with the Church courts was an assault made by King James
upon the kingdom of Jesus Christ, of which they were the
appointed guardians. We cannot blame them. If their logic
was faulty, their instinct told them truly that, if James were
allowed to gain a victory here, he would speedily follow it up
by assailing them on ground 'which was more clearly their own.
They therefore, at their meeting on November 1 1, resolved to
lesist to the uttermost, and they were strengthened in their
resolution by hearing that, the day before, Black had been sum-
moned to appear on the i8th before the Council, to answer for
the expressions which he was said to have used in his sermons.*'*
On the following day the Commissioners determined that
Black should decline to allow his case to be tried before the
Black sum- Kli^g and Council. The King being applied to,
si the would be satisfied if Black would
Council. appear before him and prove his innocence, hut
that he would not suffer him to decline the jurisdiction of the
Council,
Under these circumstances a collision was unavoidable
^ CaUenmody v. 451.
2 Cddemood^ v. 453. Summons of Mr, David Black, Nov. 10, 1596.
, R. Scotl, lix. 83.
X596
RESISTANCE OF THE MINISTERS.
59
The (question was in reality only to be decided by allowing one
of two parties to be judges in a case in which both of them
were equally interested. No compromise was suggested on
either side ; nor, indeed, was any possible. Accordingly, on
the 17th, the ministers drew uj) a declaration, which was to be
given in by Black on the following day, in which he protested,
in their name and in his own, that the King had no jurisdiction
over offences committed in preaching, until the Church had
decided against the accused minister.^ Accordingly, on the
1 8th, Black appeared before the Council and declined its juris-
diction. After some discussion, the final decision upon his case
was postponed till the gotn^ The Commissioners at once
sent the declinature to all the Presbyteries, requesting them to
testify by their subscriptions their agreement with the course
which had been pursued at Edinburgh.^
On the 22nd, the King took a final resolution with respect
to the Earl of Huntly. He decided that, as it was impos-
^ . sible to exterminate the whole of his following with-
Conditions ® ,
to be ex- out great danger and dimculty, some terms must be
th^lSof granted, if the country were not to be exposed to a
Huntly. perpetual danger. He therefore required that the
earl should find sixteen landowners who would enter into bonds
for him that he would leave the realm on April i, if he had
not previously satisfied the Church, that he would banish from
his company all Jesuits, priests, and excommunicated persons,
and that he would engage in no attempt to disquiet the peace
of the country. At the same time James issued a proclamation,
forbidding all persons to communicate with Huntly and Errol,
and ordering preparations to be made for levying a force, which
was to march against them if they should refuse the conditions
which he had offered.
^ This seems to be the natural interpretation of the phrase w
insiajtiid, and agrees with the theory of the Church courts which prevailed
at the time.
' Record of Privy Council, in McCrie s Life of Melville^ note KK.
® Caldcmoodi v. 460.
< The articles set down by His Majesty. Proclamation against
Earls, Nov. 23, 1596, S. P. Scotl, lix. 69, 70.
CHURCH AND STATE IN SCOTLAND. CH. ii.
Two days later, the King heard that the ministers had sent
the declinature to the Presbyteries for signature. He imme-
Negotia- diately directed three proclamations to be drawn up.
cermn'^^' prohibited the ministers from making any
Black. convocation of his subjects; the second charged
those ministers who had come up from the country to return
to their several parishes; and the third contained a new
summons to Black to appear before the Council to answer
not merely for his reflections on Elizabeth, but for several
contemptuous observations on the King himself, and on his
authority.'
Before, however, these proclamations were issued, an
attempt was made by the ministers to come to terms with the
King. Two or three days were spent in negotiations, which
failed because neither party would give way on the main point.
Accordingly, on the 27th,^ the proclamations were allowed to
appear.
The next day was Sunday. Every pulpit in Edinburgh was
occupied by a minister who put forth all his energies in animat
The second '''g people to join in the defence of the kingdom
declinature, Clirist, whosc Spiritual jurisdiction was attacked.
Whatever effect these arguments may have had upon the minds
of the hearers, they had none whatever upon the King. Black
having appeared before the Council on the 30th, and having
once more declined its jurisdiction, a formal resolution was
passed to the effect that, as the Church had nothing to do with
deciding on questions of treason and sedition, the Court refused
to admit the declinature.
Upon this James made another overture. If Black would
come before him, and declare upon his conscience the truth
The King’s matters with which he was charged,
offers re- he should bc frccly pardoucd. James forgot that he
■ had to do with men who, whether they were right or
wrong, were contending for a great principle, and who were not
to be moved by a mere offer of forgiveness. They told the King
’ Proclamations, Nov. 24, 1596, S. T. ScotL lix, 72, 73, 74,
Caldemoodj v, 465, Bowes to BurgWey, Nov. 27, 1596, S,
Ux, 75.
1596
BANISHMENT OE BLACK.
6l
that they were resisting him on behalf of the liberty of
Christ’s gospel and kingdom, and that they \Yould continue to
do so until he retracted what he had done.^ James appears
to have been to some extent intimidated by their firmness.
Although the Council was engaged in receiving depositions
against Black,^ yet the King himself continued the negotiations
into which he had entered, and on the following morning
agreed to withdraw the acts of the Council upon which the
proclamations had been founded, and to relinquish the proceed-
ings against Black, on condition that he would, in the King’s
presence, make a declaration of the facts of his case to three of
his brother ministers. Before, however, Black could be brought
before him, James had, in consequence of the representations
of some who were about him, changed his mind so far as to
ask that he should acknowledge at least his fault towards the
Queen.’’* This Black utterly refused to do, and the negotiations
came to an end. The Council immediately assembled, and as
he did not appear, proceeded to pronounce him guilty, leaving
the penalty to be fixed by the King.
It was some days before the sentence was carried into
effect. The negotiations which had been broken off were once
jjiack ^6re resumed. As before, both sides were ready to
Syo?d the everything excepting on the main point
Tay. at issue. At last the King’s patience was exhausted,
and he ordered Black to go into banishment to the north of the
Tay. Not long afterwards, the Commissioners were directed
to leave Edinburgh, and the ministers were informed that those
who refused to submit would be punished by the loss of their
stipends.
The Commissioners had not been long gone when a fresh
proposal was made by the King to the ministers of the town.
It is unlikely that, under any circumstances, it would
Octavians. pj^vc been attended with satisfactory results. But,
however that may have been, James did not give fair play to
* Cald& 7 ’WOoi, v. 482.
2 Depositions, Dec. i, 1596; S. P. Scotl lix. 83.
# lie was to ‘confess an offence done to the Queen at least. ^ Caldt.
f, V. 486.
CHURCH AND STATE IN SCOTLAND. CH. n.
CS2
his renewed attempts at conciliation. Unfortunately there were
those about the Court who were interested in bringing the
quarrel to an issue. The King had for some months placed
his confidence in a body of eight persons, who on account of
their number went by the name of the Octavians. Under their
management the finances were being reduced to some degree
of order, an operation which had only been rendered possible
by a considerable reduction of the Royal expenditure. As a
natural consequence, the Court was crowded with men whose
income was curtailed by the economy which had lately come
into fashion, and who longed for the downhill of the Octavians,
in order that the money which was now spent upon wortiiier
objects might once more flow into their own pockets. Accord-
Thecour. there were actually to be found amongst the
courtiers some who were prepared to inflame the ah
quarrel. ready Sufficiently angry temper wl lich prevailed on both
sides, in order to make their own profit in the general scramble
which would ensue. On the one hand, they informed the
King that some of the citizens of Edinburgh kept a nightly watch
round the house in which the ministers lived, and that they might
at any time rise in insurrection against the Covernment. On
the other hand, they told the ministers that the Octavians were
at the bottom of all that had passed, and that it was through
their means that the Popish lords had been allowed to return.
James at onee fell into the trap, and, on the night of the idth,
ordered twenty-four of the principal citizems of Edinburgh to
leave the town. As soon as the courtiers knew that this order
had been given, they wrote to the ministers, telling them that
it had been procured from the king by Uuntly, who, as they
falsely alleged, had visited him shortly before it liad been
issued.
On the morning of the 17th, Walter Bah'anrpial, after <'om-
plaining in his sermon of the banishment of so many innocent
Meeting in inveighed against the principal Octavians,
^le^Litiie and requested the noblemen and gentlemen who
were present to meet with the ministers in the Little
•Kirk after the conclusion of the sermon. As soon as they were
assembled the meeting was addressed by Robert Bnu'c, one of
TUMULT m EDINBURGH,
63
1596
t!ie foremost of the Edinburgh ministers, and it was aeter-
mined that a deputation should be sent to the King to remon-
Deputation s^rate with him, and to demand the dismissal of his
to the King, councillors. Jamcs received them at the Tolbooth,
and after some sharp words had passed on both sides, left the
room without giving them any answer. Upon the return of the
deputation to those who sent them, they found that the state of
affairs had greatly changed in their absence. As soon as they
had left the church, a foolish minister had thought fit to occupy
the minds of the excited multitude by reading to them the nar-
rative of the destruction of Haman, from the book of Esther.
Tumult in Whilst they were attending to this, some one among
the streets. crowd, who, according to the popular belief of the
time, had been suborned by the courtiers, raised a cry of ‘Fly !
save yourselves ! ' Upon this, the whole congregation, with
their minds full of the supposed treachery of the Octavians and
the Popish lords, rushed out from the church in order to put
on their armour. In a moment the streets w’ere full of an
alarmed crowd of armed men, who hardly knew what was the
danger against which they had risen, or what were the steps
which they were to take in order to provide against it. Some
of them, not knowing what to do, rushed to the Tolbooth, and
demanded that the most obnoxious of the Octavians should be
delivered up to them.
Such a tumult as this was not likely to last long. The
provost had little difficulty in persuading men who had no
It is easily definite object in view to return to their homes, a
suppressed, which he received the full support of the
ministers.
James’s conduct was not dignified. He seems to have
been thoroughly frightened by w^hat was passing around him,
liehaviourof Sent at once to the ministers, to whose coni'
the King, plaints he had so lately refused to listen, directing
them to send another deputation to him at Holyrood, to which
place of safety he proceeded under the escort of the magistrates,
as soon as the tumult was pacified.
Accordingly, in the evening, the new deputation set out fd?"
Holyrcod, carrying with them a petition in which among other
64 CHURCH AND STATE IN SCOTLAND. CH. n,
things, they simply demanded that everything which had been
done to the prejudice of the Church during the past five weeks
should be at once annulled. They can hardly have expected
that James would grant such a request as this. He was now no
longer under the influence of terror, and everyone who was in
his company during that afternoon must have urged him not
to give way to such a gratuitous acknowledgment of defeat. If
he had received the deputation, and had announced to them
that, though he was ready to agree to any reasonable terms, he
would not surrender the rights of the Crown, there would have
been nothing to say against his conduct ; but, instead of doing
this, he was mean enough to employ Lord Ochiltree to meet the
deputation on its way, in order that he might terrify or cajole
them into returning without fulfilling their mission.^
The next morning James set off for Linlitligow, leaving
behind him a proclamation commanding all strangers to leave
He leaves Edinburgh at once, and ordering the removal of the
Edinburgh. Courts of Justice. It was evident that he in-
tended to make use of the tumult of the day before to bring
the question between the clergy and himself to an issue. No
doubt he was determined to make the most of an affiiir which
was in reality of very little consequence ; but it is unlikely that he
was influenced, as is generally supposed, by any very deep and
hypocritical policy. In his eyes, the tumult must have assumed
far larger proportions than it does to us, standing at this dis-
tance of time ; and even if he had not been .surrounded by
men who were unwilling to allow the truth to penetrate to his
ears, he would naturally suppose that the ministers had taken a
far more direct part in the disturbance than had in reality been
the case. The ministers certainly did not take such a course as
was likely to disabuse him of his mistake. They wrote to I.ord
Hamilton, who, in consequence of his elder brother^ in.sanity,
was at the head of the great hou.se which ruled over the impor-
tant district of Clydesdale, begging him to come to Edinburgh,
and to put himself at their head.® On the following day Bruce
^ * Calderiimd, v. 502-514, Spottimoode {Spoltiswoodc Society’s ecL),
iii 27, 32. Bowes to Burghley, Dec. 17, 1596, S. I\ Scotl, lix. 87,
* Calderwood, v. 514. The letter, before it reached the King’s hands,
1597 EDINBURGH REDUCED TO SUBMISSION. 65
preached with all his energy against the assailants of the Church,
and another minister made a violent personal attack upon the
King. Accordingly, on the 20th, the magistrates of Edinburgh
were ordered to commit as prisoners to the Castle the ministers
of the town, together with certain of the citizens, in order that
they might answer for their proceedings on the day of the
tumult Bruce and some others of the ministers, knowing
that they could not expect a fair trial at the hands of their
opponents, sought safety in flight^ Shortly afterward-s, the
Council declared that the tumult had been an act of treason,
At the same time, the King issued a declaration, which he
required every minister to sign, on pain of losing his stipend.
By this signature he w^as to bind himself to submit to the
King’s judicatory in all civil and criminal causes, and especially
in questions of treason and sedition.
James was determined to show that physical force at least
was on his side. There was scarcely a noble in Scotland who
R-dicesitto look with displeasure upon the preten.sions
subrn'i-ssion. of the clergy ; and the King had soon at his com-
mand a force which made all resistance useless. On
January i, 1597, he entered Edinburgh, and received the sub-
mission of the townsmen. Going to the High Church, he
declared his determination to uphold the reformed religion. At
the same time, however, he refrained from any declaration of his
intention to pardon those who had taken ])art in the late tumult,
and left them with the charge of treason hanging over their
heads.
It had not been very difficult to overpower the resistance
of the ministers \ but it was by no means so easy to devise a
scheme by which such collisions might be prevented
Difficult . . J rr,, . - ° ^
pvositbn of for the future. There were, in fact, only two ways
taeKmg. ^vvliich it was possible to obviate the continual
danger of a renewal of the quarrel. On the one hand, James
might, if he were strong enough, recall into existence the
abolished Episcopacy, or, in other words, he might attempt
was in some way or other altered, so as to contain expressions of appr^
bat'on of the tumult.
‘ Caldcrwood^ v. 514-521 ; Spotthwoode^ iii. 32-35,
VOL. L
66
CHURCH AND STATE IN SCOTLAND. CH. ii.
once more to keep the ministers in silence and subjection by
means of members of their own order. On tlie other hand,
there was a proposal which had been often made for admitting
the representatives of the Church to a sliarein the deliberations
of Parliament, without giving to those representatives any
title or jurisdiction derived from the Crown. Parliament would
thus, it might be hoped, step in some degree into the place
which was occupied by the body which bore the same name in
England, so as to give full play to all the social forces which
existed in the countr}^, and to support the Crown in its efforts
to mediate between the nobility and the clergy.
This last seneme had the advantage of the advocacy of the
Secretary, John Lindsay of Balcarres,’ who was decidedly the
ablest statesman in the country. Irreconcilably on-
Scheme of , , , • r ' • • , f ,
[.indsnyof posed to the pretensions of the ministers to an inde-
Baicarres. position, he wus 110 Icss oppo.scd to tlic cflually
exorbitant pretensions of the high nobility. It was to him
that the representatives of the smaller landed gentry owed their
introduction into Parliament. He hoped to be able by their
means to counterbalance to some extent the votes of the heads
of the great feudal houses. In the same spirit, lie was anxious
to see the representatives of the Church added to the numbers
of those who were summoned to Parliament to tre^at of maitcrs
of national concern.^
’ The fact that he put it fonv.iul in tho spjingf)r 1506, in anine'ti'.'U
with a scheme which made the restoration of prelacy impossible, shows
that he did not advocate it as a covert means of intioduciug Kpiscopacy.
Ctilderwood, v. 420.
" It is gen^ially supposed that the greatest difticulty would have been
found with the High Pieshytcrian clergy. Vet if, as was in itself <iesiraMe,
astipulation had lieen ma<lc that the repiesentaiives of the ('hureh in
Parliament should always he laymen, it is unlikely that they would have
lesisted. At the Conference at Holyrood House in 150Q, '‘It was de-
manded, who could vote for the Kirk, if not ininisttTs Answered, it
might stand better with the office of an elder or deacon mw of a mini'-ter,
tliey having commission from the Kirk .ind .subject to render an aecr^uiit
of their doing at the General A.ssembly, and that, imleed, we would have
fair enjoying her privileges as any other, and have His Ma-
!, and the affairs of the comnum weal helpt'd ; Ind not with
the hinder, wreck and cuiruptionof the spiritual ministry of God’s wor-
1597 PROPOSED REFORM OF PARLIAMENT.
6?
Yet, specious as this scheme appears, it may well be doubted
whether it would have been attended with any satisfactory results.
It is true that if the evils under which Scotland was labouring
had been merely the results of a defect in the institutions of
Not likely to country, no plan could possibly have been de-
succeed. which was more likely to be successful than
the union of the bodies which were in reality two distinct
Parliaments, legislating independently of one another, and
constantly coming into collision. But the truth was, that the
two Parliaments were in reality the leaders of two distinct
peoples living within the limits of one country, and that any
attempt to bring them to work together would only have been
attended by a violent explosion. If, indeed, Jame.s had been
a different man, and if he had from the beginning of his reign
given a sympathising but not unlimited co-operation to the cause
of the ministers, which was in reality the cause of good order
as well as of religion, he might have been able to mediate
with effect between the two classes of his subjects. If, for
instance, he had been a man such as was the great founder of
the Dutch Republic, the clergy would at least have listened
to him respectfully when he told them that, for political reasons,
it was impossible to deal as they wished with the northern Earls
At all events they would not have been goaded into unwise
assertions of questionable rights by the supposition, which,
however ill-founded, was by no means unreasonable, that the
King was at heart an enemy to the Protestant religion as well
as to the political pretensions of the clergy.
shipping, and salvation of his people” {Calderwood^ v. 752). In 1592, at
the time when the acts confirming the Presbyterian system were passed,
the English Resident wrote as follows ; — “ Sundry laws are made in favour
of the Church ; but the request of the ministry to have vote in Parliament
is denied, notwithstanding that they pressed the same earnestly, in regard
(hat the temporalities of the prelates (having place in Parliament for the
Church) were now elected and put in temporal lords and persons, and that
the number of the prelates remaining are few and not sufficient to serve
for the Chinch in Parliament” (Bowes to Burghley, June 6, 1592, S. P,
Scotl. xlviii. 44). The real difficulty would have come from the nobles
if the ministers could have been convinced that the King was acting in
good faith.
68
CHURCH AND STATE IN SCOTLAND. CH ii.
But this was not to be. James found himself in a position
from which there was no satisfactory way of escape. He found
Difficulties bimself led on, step by step, from an undertaking in
of James, 'which lic at first embarked with a view to restrain
encroachments upon his own power, till, before his death, he
had himself encroached far upon the proper domain of the
clergy, and had sown the seeds of the whirlwind which was to
sweep away his son.
It soon became evident that there were considerable diffi-
culties to be overcome before the clergy and the nobility could
be brought to work together in Parliament. It was not easy to
obtain the consent of the ministers to the change, suspicious
as they naturally were of the intentions which might be con-
cealed under the King’s proposal. The only chance of gaining
the approval of a General Assembly lay in resorting to a
manoeuvre. It was well known that the character of the
Assembly was in a great measure influenced by the locality in
which it met, as few of the ministers were able to afford to
travel from distant parts of the country. Accordingly, James
summoned the Assembly to meet at Perth, in order
nonhem that it might be convenient for the ministers of
minsiters. attend. Tliesc men had never shared
the feelings which animated their brethren in the south, and
were generally regarded by the High Presbyterian party as
ignorant and unlearned. There were, how'ever, on this occa.sion
special reasons which would move them to take part with the
King. If they were in some measure cut off from the intellec-
tual movement of Edinburgh and St. Andrews, they were far
more practically acquainted with the power of the northern
Earls. If the confiscation of the lands of Huntly and Errol
would in reality have served the Protestant cause, it cannot be
doubted that these men would have been ready to cry out ft)r
it In reality they must have known that they would have been
the first to suffer from the confusion into which tne country
v/ould have been thrown by any attempt to carry such a sentence
into execution, and they were ready to support the authority of
^the King, which promised them the best chance of a quiet life
for the future.
*597
MESTMICTIONS ON THE CLERGY,
69
When the Assembly met at Perth, on February 29, the
King was not contented with leaving the northern ministers to
come to their own conclusions. The courtiers were
Assembly employed to flatter and caress them. They were
at Perth. , , ; . ... ,
told that It was time for them to make a stand
against the arrogance of the Popes of Edinburgh. They
were closeted with the King himself, who used all the argu-
ments at his disposal to win them to his side. The result was
seen as soon as the first great question w^as brought before the
Assembly. They were asked whether the Assembly was lawfully
convened or not. The High Presbyterian party declared that
it was not, as it had been summoned by royal authority ; but, in
spite of all their efforts, the question was decided against them.
As soon as this point was settled, James proposed thirteen
articles, to which he wished them to give their replies. The
question of the vote in Parliament he left to another occasion,
but he obtained permission to propose to a future Assembly
alterations in the external government of the Church. The
Assembly also agreed that no minister should find fault with
the King’s proceedings until he had first sought for remedy in
vain, nor was he to denounce anyone by name from the pulpit,
excepting in certain exceptional circumstances. The ministers
were forbidden to meet in extraordinary conventions, and leave
was given to the Presbyteries of Moray and Aberdeen to treat
with the Earl of Huntly, who w^as asking, with no very good
grace, for admission into the Protestant Church.
The King had thus gained the consent of the Assembly
to the view which he took on most of the questions at issue
between himself and the clergy. But a vote obtained by Court
influence could not possibly have commanded the respect of
those who were bound by it, and it was not by the shadow of
legality which was thus thrown over the royal acts that the
Melvilles and the Blacks were to be restrained from pronoun-
cing the whole affair to be a mere caricature of the true Assem-
blies of the Church.*
‘ Melville’s Diary j 403-414. Book of ike Universal Kirk
Club), 889.
70
CHURCH AND STATE IN SCOTLAND. CH. ii.
Two months later another Assembly met at Dundee,
principally composed of the same class of persons, and ani-
mated by a similar spirit. They agreed to accept the
Assembly submission of Huntly, Errol, and Angus, and gave
at Dundee. foj. absolution from the sentence
of excommunication which had been pronounced upon them.
They consented that a commission should be granted to certain
of the principal ministers to confer from time to time with the
King’s Commissioners on the subject of the settlement of the
ministers’ stipends, and to give their advice to the King on all
matters concerning the affairs of the Church. This appoint-
ment was long afterwards regarded as the first step towards
the introduction of Bishops. But it may be doubted whether
as yet James had formed any such intention. At present, liis
wishes seem to have been confined to the discovciy of .some
means by which his authority might be maintained, and his
experience of the last two Assemblies may well ha\e led him
to suppose that he could effect his purpose far better by the
use of his personal influence than by any change in the existing
system of Church government.
On June 26, the three Earls were released from their ex-
communication at Aberdeen, uiion declaring their adhesion to
Absolution doctrines at which they must have inwardly revolted,
of the Earls. Howcver neccssaiy it miglit have been to relieve
them from civil penalties, the ministei.s wlio hung bat k from
countenancing this scene of hypocrisy stand out in bright con-
trast to the King who forced the supposed penitents to submit
to such an indignity.
In the course of the following month the hldinburgh minis-
ters were again permitted to occujiy their pul]nis. d'lie town hat!
some time before been pardoned for the tumult of December 17,
but not until a heavy fine had been exacted from it.
James now seemed to have established his authority on a
sure foundation, Huntly and the great nobles were rcduceii
Condition of peaceable subjects. The
Jinking- return of the exiles had not been attended with the
results which the ministers had jrredicted. From
this time we hear no more of intrigues with foreign powers for
1597 the clerical VOTE IN PARLIAMENT 7i
the overthrow of the monarchy. The Church, too, had by
means which will not bear too close inspection, been induced to
renounce some of its most exorbitant pretensions, and it
seemed as if days of peace were in store for Scotland,
Everything depended on the spirit in which James took
in hand the measure by which he hoped to obtain for the
_ , ministers a vote in Parliament, and on the success by
Proposal ^
that the which his efforts were attended. On December 1 3
clergy ,
should Parliament met, and the Commissioners appointed
m PariU° by the last Assembly, who had no doubt come to an
understanding with the King, petitioned that the
Church might be represented in future Parliaments. Here,
however, they met with unexpected obstacles. The great men
who sat in Parliament were by no means willing to see their
debates invaded by a crowd of ministers, or even by lay dele-
gates who should be responsible to an ecclesiastical assembly.
Unwilling to assent to the proposal, and yet desiring not
to displease the King, they passed an Act authorising those
persons to sit in Parliament who might be appointed by the
King to the offices of Bishop or Abbot, or to any other prelacy.
Such an Act was in reality in direct opposition to the petition
which had been presented. The Commissioners had asked
for seats for representatives of the clergy. The Parliament
granted seats to two classes of persons : to laymen who had
accepted ecclesiastical titles in order to enable them to hold
Church property, and to ministers who were appointed by the
King, and who need not have any fellow-feeling at all with
their brethren. It was said at the time that those who assented
to this Act were induced to do so by the belief that no minister
would accept a bishopric from the King, and that they would
thus be able to shelve for ever so distasteful a subject. At the
same time, they took care to point out that tlieir wish was that
the new Bishops should, if they ever came into existence, be
employed to exercise jurisdiction of some kind or other, by
enacting that the King should treat with the Assembly on the
office to be exercised by them ‘ in their spiritual policy and
government in the Church.’ ^
‘ Acts of ParL ScoiU iv. 130,
72
CHURCH AND STATE IN SCOTLAND. CH. n.
On March 7, 1598, the Assembly met once more at Dun-
dee. As on former occasions, every influence was used to win
over the members to support the policy of the Court.
Assembly There was one, however, amongst those who had
at Dundee, thcmselvcs wlio w'as known to be in-
tractable. Andrew Melville was not to be seduced or in-
timidated in the performance of his duty. James had, accord-
ingly, in no very straightforward way, taken measures to pre-
Andiew '^ent his sharing in the discussions of the Assembly.
In the preceding summer he had himself visited
sit. St. Andrews, and, under his influence, a new rule
had been laid down by which all teachers in the University
who did not at the same lime hold a ministerial charge were
prohibited from taking any part in Church assemblies. He
now, in virtue of this rule, which can hardly have been made
except for the express purpose of excluding the great leader of
the Church party, refused to allow Melville to take his scat.
It was not without opposition that the King carried his
point. He declared that what he desired was not to
JropS* have ‘ Papistical or Anglican Bishops.’ He wished
allowed. ministry .should take
part in the deliberations of the Council and of the Parliament,
in order that they might be able to .speak on behalf of the
Church, He himself took a share in the debates, an<l allowed
himself to make an unfair use of his position to interrupt the
speakers, and to bear down all opposition. At last, by a small
majority, the Assembly decided that fifty-one repre.sentativc.s of
the Church should vote in Parliament. 'I’he election of thesu
was to pertain in part to the King and in part to the Church.
They did not think fit to descend any further into particulars
at the time. An opportunity was to be allowed to the various
Presbyteries and Synods to consider of the precise position which
was to be occupied by the future representatives. A convention
was afterwards to be held, at which three person.? nominated by
each Synod and six doctors of the Univensities were to be pre-
sent. It was only , however, in the improbable case of the Con-
ation being unanimous on the points which were to be sub-
mitted to it, that its decision was to be final in settling the
1598 THE CLERICAL VOTE IN PARLIAMENT 73
position of the representatives of the Church. It differences
of opinion arose, a report was to be made to the next General
Assembly, which would itself take the matter in hand.
Accordingly the Convention met at Falkland on July 25 ,
and decided that the representatives should be nominated by
„ the King out of a list of six, which was to be sub*
ventionat mitted to him by the Church upon each vacancy.
Falkland, representative, when chosen, was to be respon-
sible for his actions to the General Assembly, and was to propose
nothing in Parliament for which he had not the express warrant
of the Church. ^ As, however, the meeting was not unanimous,
the final decision w^as left to the next General Assembly.
It is obvious that this scheme was entirely different from
that which had been proposed by the Parliament. What the
Convention had agreed upon was the admission of a body of
men into Parliament who would be able to keep in check the
temporal lords. What the Parliament had consented to was
the admission of men who would assist the Crown and the
nobility in keeping in check the clergy. Between these two
plans James was now called upon to decide. As far as w'e can
judge, he had hitherto been in earnest in his declarations that
he had no wish to re-establish Episcopacy. He was at no time
able to keep a secret long, and, if he had been acting hypocri-
tically, his real sentiments would have been certain to ooze out
in one quarter or another.^ But, how'ever this may have been,
I
’ Caldenmod^ vi. 17.
'* There is no direct evidence on one side or the other. But the
frequency with which James’s design of establishing the bishops is spoken
of by Nicolson in his despatches to the English Government in the course ’
of the following year, warrants us in founding upon his silence at an
earlier period a strong presumption that there was no such design formed
up to the autun\n of 1598. The following passage in a letter written when
the subject was before Parliament in 1597 is interesting : “ The same day
the articles given by the Kirk w'as dealt in again. The King seemed
willing to have yielded them contentment, and so they acknowledge it in
the pulpit and otherv/ays. But the Council was against them, saying, if
they should have place in Parliament and Council, it were meet for the
King’s honour that they had the title of some degree by tlie name of som^
degree of prelacy, and so they should be of more estimation with the
74
CHURCH AND STATE IN SCOTLAND. CH. a.
he certainly had not taken all this trouble in order to introduce
fifty-one delegates of the General Assembly within the walls of
Parliament. What he wanted was* a body of men who would
^ive weight to the decisions of Parliament in dealing with the
cases in which there had hitherto been a conflict between the
two jurisdictions ; and it is no wpnder that he thought that he
could have attained his end, if a certain number of representa-
tives had been elected for life. As far as we can be justified in
ascribing to James any definite plan at all, it is probable that
he expected that the Parliament, thus reinforced, would support
him in the maintenance of his jurisdiedon in all external matters,
whilst all purely ecclesiastical affairs would be lelt, as before, to
the General Assembly.
The best thing James could have done would have been to
throw up the whole scheme, and to wait for better days, '{'he
. distrust existing between the nobility and the clergy,
if rettorinV ^tnd the little confidence with which he was regarded
Episcopacy. ministers, rendered his conciliatory proposal
incapable of being carried out It was certain that tlie S('heme
of the convention would never be accepted by Parliament, and
even if it had been accepted, it would probably have been
impossible to reduce it to working order. 'I'he time might
come when a wise and firm Government might be able to
overcome the difficulties by which the double reprc.sentatiun of
the nation was encumbered ; but that time had not yet arrived.
Nor was it likely that James would do anything to anticipate
such a time. He became more and more enamoured of the
measure which had been propo.sed by the Parliament, and he
felt an increasing desire for the re-establishment of ifpiscopacy
people, saying that when the Queen of Kngland calleil any to be of her
Council for their wisdom, she honoured them with the title of Knight or
other dcgice, and without some degree of prelacy or other it was not meet
they should have place in his Council, thereby thinking the minihters would
not receive title and place thereby. But the King, seeing the lords would
not otherwise agree unto their motion, wille<l thmn nut to refuse it, pro-
^mising to find a myd ” [? middle or compromise] “for them therein.
Wherein they retain the matter to their choice until they may advise with the
General Assembly. ’’—Nicolsou to Cecil, Dec. 23, 1597, S, /*. Ixi, 65,
75
159S EPISCOPACY TO BE INTRODUCED,
as the 'Only possible means of bringing the clergy to submit to
his own authority. With Episcopacy as an ecclesiastical institu-
tion, he had, at least as yet, no sympat' y whatever. He
legarded it simply as a device for keeping the clergy in order,
and he did not see that by the very fact of his clothing the
officials who were appointed by him for this purpose with an
ecclesiastical title, he was preparing for himself a temptation
which would soon lead him to interfere with those strictly
ecclesiastical matters which were beyond his province. He had
hitherto been in pursuit of an object which was at least worthy
of the efforts of a statesman. He was now entering upon a path
in which the wisest man could not avoid committing one
blunder after another.
It was in preparing the ‘ Basilicon Doron,’ the work which
James drew up in the autumn of this year,^ for the instruction
of his son, and which, as he intended it to be kept
silicon from public knowledge, may be supposed to contain
his real thoughts, that he first gave expression to his
opinions on this subject In this book he spoke clearly of
his wish to bridle the clergy, if possible, by the reintroduction
of Bishops into the Church. He was not likely to feel less
strongly in the following year, when he was again
irritated by a renewal of his old quarrel with Bruce
and the ministers of Edinburgh, respecting the amount of
licence which was to be allowed to them in speaking of State
affairs in the pulpit At the same time, his own conduct was
such as to give rise to gi'ave suspicions. Not only did the
sentiments expressed in the ‘ Basilicon Doron ’ become generally
known, wffien it w’as found impossible to keep the existence of
the book any longer a secret, but he allowed himself to engage
in those intrigues with the Catholic Powders of Europe, in the
hope of obtaining their support at the death of Elizabeth, which
afterwards gave rise to so much scandal. Seton, the President
of the Session, and Elphinstone, who had lately beceme Secre-
tary in the place of Lindsay of Balcarres, were known to be
' The earliest mention of the book is probably in the undated advicesc^
trom Nicolson ascribed by Mr. Thorpe to Oct. 1598. d”. P,
Ixiii. 50.
AND STATE IN SCOTLAND. CH.
Catholics. Montrose, who had long befriended the northern
Earls, was appointed Chancellor, and Huntly himself was con-
stantly seen at Court, and was raised to the dignity of a
Marquis, an honour which was by no means counterbalanced in
the eyes of the clergy by the gift of a similar title to the Protes-
tant Hamilton.
Towards the end of 1599, James determined to make a last
attempt to change the purpose of the ministers. The Assembly
Conference at Montrose in March, but he thought
atHoiyrood. before he presented himself before it, it would be
well to summon a conference of the principal ministers to meet
him at Holyrood in the preceding November. It was in vain,
however, that he did his best to induce them to agree to the
appointment of representatives for life, and to his proposal that
these representatives should bear the title of Bishops.^ When
the Assembly met at Montrose, no better success
A<;sembiyat attended his efforts. It was there decided, that the
Montrose, representatives of the Assembly wlio were to vote
in Parliament should only hold their position for a year, and
that they were to be tied down by such a body of restrictions
that it would be impossible for them to be anything else than
the obedient servants of the Assembly,
James had thus brought himself into a position from which
it was difficult to extricate himself with dignity. Pie must
either assent to the nomination of representatives who
mS?of would never be permitted to vote, or he must appoint
Bishops. bishops who, unless he could contrive to impose them
by force upon the unwilling Church, would not be allowed to
exercise any jurisdiction whatever. Under these circumstances,
everything combined to lead him to choose the alternative
which was offered by the Parliament. It was not, however,
till after the strange incident of the Cowrie Plot had brought
him once more into collision with the ministers who refused
to believe his explanation of that mysterious occurence, that
he made up his mind to take the final step. On October 14
1600, he summoned a Convention of Commissioners from the
various synods, whose consent he obtained to the appointment
'i V. 746.
j 5 oo bishops in PARLIAMENT, 77
of three Bishops in addition to the few who were still surviving
from amongst those who had been formerly nominated. These
Bishops took their seats, and voted in the Parliament which
met in November,* but they had no place whatever assigned
to them in the organization of the Church. The exact part
taken by the Convention in this nomination is uncertain ; but it
is clear that, as it was not a General Assembly, it had no right
to act in the name of the Church. The rank, therefore, of
these new Bishops cannot be regarded as anything more than
that which could be derived from a civil appointment by the
Crown, which was covered over by the participation of a few
ministers who were altogether unauthorised to deal with the
matter. The whole of the labours and intrigues of the last
three years had been throwm away, and James had done nothing
more than he might have done immediately upon the passing
of the Act of Parliament in 1597.^
The position which James had thus taken up towards the
Scottish Presbyterians, was likely to affect his conduct when
The Engiibh camc to deal with the English Puritans. For the
Successjon, present James’s attention was drawn aside to the work
of making good his claim to the English throne. For some
years Englishmen had been looking fonvard with anxiety to
' Calderwood represents them ns being chosen by ‘the King with
his Commissioners and the ministers there convened.' Nicolson writes :
“ According to my last, the King laboured the erecting of the Bishops
e\ceecling earnestly ; yet for that the same was to be done with general
allowance of the Kirk, he directed the Lord President, Secretary, and
others to confer with the Commissioners of the Kirk, who, standing upon
what wa.s set down at the General Assembly last at Montrose the King
not pleased thfrewith, nor with the coldness of the estates therein, got it
consented unto that the three new Bishops . . . should have vote with
the prelates, and so they had it this day, leaving their further authorities
to the next General Assembly.”— Nicolson to Cecil, Nov. 15, 1600, S, P.
Scot!. Ixvi. 96.
2 Writers frequently speak of the King’s Bishops as if they were in
some way connected with the appointment of representatives assented to
by the Assembly of Montros“. Such, however, is evidently not the case.
I’hey derived their title simply from the Act of Parliament and the pre-
rogative of the Cr{»wn. At the Assembly which met at Burntisland in
1601, there BceniiS to have beer no reference to the Bishops on either side.
CHURCH A HD STATE TV SCOTLAND, CH. ii.
the death of Elizabeth, and had prognosticated that it would be
followed by internal convulsions, if not by a foreign invasion.
Curious persons reckoned up a list of fourteen claimants to the
Crown, ^ not one of whom could show a title perfectly free from
objection. Of these, however, the greater number must have
known that they had no chance even of obtaining a hearing,
deriving their claims, as they did, from sovereigns who reigned
before Henry VII., and thus ignoring the rights of the House
of Tudor. The only one of these whose claim had been
Title of the prominently brought forward was Isabella, the eldest
Infanta, daughter of Philip IL of Spain. Those who asked
that a Spanish princess should wear the crown of Pdizabeth,
urged that she was descended from a daughter of William the
Conqueror, from a daughter of Henry II., and from a daughter
of Henry III. They also brought forward the fact that her
ancestor, Louis VIII. of France, had been chosen to the throne
of England, and they argued that his de.scendants had a right
to occupy the throne in preference to the descendants of John.*
Such reasoning was by no means conclusive, and the support
of her title by the more violent Catholics wa.s not likely to con-
ciliate the nation in her behalf.
In fact the only doubt which would by any ])ossi!)iHty he
raised was, whether the succc.ssion would hill to the House of
Suffolk, or to the House of Stuart.
The Parliamentary title was undoubtedly vested in tlie
Suffolk line. By an Act of Parliament, Henry VIIL had been
empowered to dispose of the succc.ssion By will ; and
oftheSuf. he had directed that, after his own children and
foikhne ; Frauccs, the eldest daughter of
his sister Mary, Duchess of Suffolk, should succ'ced. Failing
her and her children, her place was to be taken by her sister
Eleanor. After the death of Lady Jane ( Iray, wlio was the eldest
daughter of the Lady Frances, the claims of the elder branch
of the Suffolk line were represented by Lady Jane’s next sister,
Catherine. If Elizabeth had died before 1587, there can be
‘ Introduction to the Correspomimes of James VL THth Sir R, CecU,
2 Doleman (Persons), Conference on ilie Succcsshn, 15..
THE ENGLISH SUCCESSION.
79
E6or
little doubt that Catherine Gray, or one of her family,’ would
have succeeded her. As long as the Queen of Scots was alive,
the reasons which had determined the nation to support
Henry VIII. in excluding the House of Stuart were still of im-
portance. With the execution of Mary all these objections fell
to the ground. There was now no sufficient cause for tamper-
andofthe with the Ordinary rule of hereditary succession.
Stuart hne. Parliament had been allowed to follow its own
wishes, an Act would undoubtedly have been passed securing
the succession to James, who was the representative of his great-
grandmother Margaret, the eldest daughter of Henry VII. But
the prejudices of the Queen stood in the way. She was de-
termined that in her lifetime no one should be able to call him-
self her heir. But that when, in the course of nature, she should
be removed from the throne, James would be acceptable, with
scarcely an exception, to the whole English nation, was unde-
niable. The desire to return to the regular course was cer-
tainly strengthened by the position in which the Suffolk family
stood at the end of Elizabeth’s reign. There were doubts as to
the validity of the marriage of Catherine Gray with the Earl of
Hertford, and, consequently, of the legitimacy of his eldest son,
Lord Beauchamp. If the marriage should be hereafter proved
to be invalid, Lord Beauchamp’s claim would be worthless ; if,
on the other hand, it should be proved to be valid, the claim
of any representative of the younger branch of the Suffolk line
would be equally worthless.
If the Parliamentary title were discarded, the claim of James
was certain to prevail. Lawyers indeed had been found who
Arguments bad discovcred that his cousin. Arabella Stuart,
Arfbdia' who was also descended from Margaret, the sister of
Stuart. Henry VIIL, had a better title, as she had been
born in England, whereas James had been born in Scotland.
It w'as a maxim of the English law, they argued, that no
alien could inherit land in England. If, therefore, James
was incapable of inheriting an acre of land south of the
Tweed, he was still more incapable of inheriting the whole
realm. A few of the more moderate Catholics would have
welcomed the accession of Arabella, as they thought it more
‘ She heiself died in 1567.
8o CHURCH AND STATE IN SCOTLAND. CH. it.
likely that they would obtain toleration from her than from a
King who had been nursed in the Presbyterian Church of
Scotland ; but with this exception, these crotchets of the law-
yers met with no response in the nation.
The only obstacle which w'as likely to oppose itself to the
realisation of the wishes of the people arose from the character
James too ^f James himself. For some years he wa.s unable to
SSfa party believe that he could obtain the object of his desires
in England, without some Superhuman effort of his own. He was
bent upon getting together a party who would support his claims
when the day of trial came. He intrigued with Essex, with
Mountjoy, and even with the rebel Tyrone.^ If he did not con-
sent to head an army for the invasion of England, he at all events
gave no decided refusal when the proposal was made to him.
Many of his counsellors and associates in Scotland had been
anxious to embark him on a still more dangerous course. The
'I'he Catholic Catliolics about him wished him to become King of
intrigue. England with the assistance of tlie Pope, to grant
liberty of conscience to the Catholics of both kingdoms, and to
set Presbyterians and Puritans at defiance.- They were anxious
to engage him in a correspondence with the Pope himself In
T599, a certain Edward Drummond was about to proceed to
Rome. James consented to entrust him with letters addressed
to the Duke of Florence, tlie Duke of Savoy, and some of
the Cardinals, asking them to support the appointment of the
Bishop of Vaison —a Scotchman, named Chisholm— to the
Cardinalate, who was expected to watch over the interests
of James at Rome. But James resolutely refused to write
* This letter to Tyrone is among the Zaml. NSS^., Ixx.xiv, fol. 79 a.
Tyrone’s answer is in the S. P. Scot!. Ixvi. itS. The whole subject of the
relations between James and the English parlies is treated of at .some
length by Mr. Bruce in his introduction to the Cormpomknee of yames 17 .
with Sir R. Cecil. These letters add one or two new fixets to the history,
but their chief value consists in the light which they throw upon tlie cha-
racter of Cecil. Nothing can be more instructive than the contrast between
the tone of these letters and those of Ford Henry Howard, which have so
often, in spite of repeated protests, been taken to represent Cecil’s feeling
as well as his policy.
‘ Gray to Salisbury, Oct. 3, 1608. llaifidd MSS. exxvi. fol. 59.
i 602 the letter to THE TOPE, fii
to the Pope himself, not because he had any scruple about
negotiating with him, but because he objected to address him as
Thesurre ‘ Holy Father.’ Elphinstone, the Secretary of State,
titious letter Urged on by men higher in authority than him-
to the Pope. persuadcd Drummond to draw up a letter to the
Pope asking for the Bishop’s appointment and explaining that
the bearer was directed to say that James had no intention of
persecuting the Catholics. Elphinstone slipped this letter in
amongst the others which were awaiting James’s signature as he
was going out hunting, and had the titles added afterwards by
Drummond. Some time later, information that this letter had
been delivered in Rome reached Queen Elizabeth, and she
directed her ambassador to remonstrate with James. James
summoned Elphinstone to bear witness that no such letter had
been sent, and Elphinstone not only avowed his ignorance of
the letter, but persuaded Drummond on his return from Rome
to support him in his falsehood.^
^ Elphinstone was subsequently created Lord Balmerino. In 1608
the whole story came out. The narrative as given above is taken from
his letter to the King, Oct. 21, 1608 [Hatfield MSS,, cxxvi. foL 67), and
from his relation in Calderivood, v. 740. My reasons for believing it will
be given when I come to deal with Balmerino’s trial. In the meanwhile
the following extract from a letter of the Jesuit Creichton will serve to put
James’s conduct in a clear light; — “As touching the President’s ” [i.e,
Balmerino’s) “confession to have sent the despatch to Pope and Cardinals
without His Majesty’s consent or commandment, I will not mell me with
that, nor anything what it may merit. But because I assisted Mr. Edw'aid
Drummond in all that negotiation (thinking it to be to the King’s weal
and service) and communication of all the letters that were bi ought for
that affair, I thought it expedient to inform you of the veiity of all. Theie
was nothing wrought in that negotiation which was not thought to be for
the King’s Majesty’s service, which was to procure the Bishop of Vaison’s
advancement to the degree of Cardinal, to the end that His Majesty should
have in the College of Cardinals one of his true and faithful subjects to
advance His Majesty’s service, and dash and stop that which might he
to his prejudice ; and specially that they should not excommunicate His
Majesty, or absolve his subjects from their obedience, as there was some
at that time busy to procure it. . . . It was not given to understand to the
Pope that the King’s Majesty was in any disposition either to come pfr] or
favour the Catholic religion, for the contrary was contained expressly iix
the letters, . . . saying that, albeit he remained constant in that religion
VOL. L G
CHURCH AND STATE IN SCOTLAND, cir. ii
There is no difficulty in learning what James thought at
this time on the subject of the toleration of the Catholics. In
a letter written before his accession to the English tlirone, he
James’! sxpressed himself precisely as he atterwards did to his
opinion on first English Parliament, that he was unwilling that
■ the blood of any man should be shed for diversity of
opinion in religion, but that he was also unwilling that the
Catholics should become sufficiently numerous to oppress the
Protestants. He would be glad that priests and Jesuits should
be banished, and that all further spread of the religion might
thus quickly be put a stop to without persecution. ^
Such an idea was not very practical, but it was at least
the expression of a desire to escape from that miserable intoler-
ance with which Europe in every corner was defiled.
In his effort to bring into existence a better order of society,
James would receive no help from Elizabeth’s ministers. In
their opinion, the only reasonable way of dealing with
tames’s* CathoHcs was to keep them down, the laity by fine and
spSSem:?’ imprisonment, and the clergy by the gallows. There
Tiif others amongst them. Sir Robert Cecil, who could
teach James that the way to the throne of England
did not lie in a secret understanding with the Catholics. Cecil
liad been, since his father Burghley’s death, the leading states-
man in Elizabeth’s Government He was in the enjoyment of
the full confidence of his sovereign, and had been entrusted by
her with the responsible office of Secretary. He saw clearly
that it was necessary for England that James sliould succeed
Elizabeth, and he saw also that James must be kept quiet, if he
in which he was nourished from his cradle, yet he would not be enemy
or persecutor of the Catholics so long a.s they should remain faithful and
obedient subjects unto him. As, indeed, Ilis Majesty had ever done,
until the horrible and barbarous conspincy of the Gunpowder. For in
Scotland, to them of our order who are holden the tnost odious, and ixtrse-
cuted to the death by the ministers, he did never use more rigour nor to
banish them out of the country, and constrain their parents to oblige them
under pain to cause them to depart.”— \V. Creichton to Sir A. Murray,
Jan. 27, 1609 ; Botfield’s Original Leifas relating to Eccksiastkal Affairs^
i. 180.
^ Correspondence of James VI, with Sir R, Ceell^ p. 36.
r603 JAMES SUPPORTED BY CECIL, 83
were not to throw his chance away. He therefore took advan-
tage of the presence of a Scottish embassy in London, to let
James know that he was devoted to his service. xL corre-
spondence sprang up, which was kept secret from the Queen, in
which he impressed on James the necessity of avoiding any-
thing like impatience, and assured him that he would answer
for his ultimate success. James, who had been prejudiced
against Cecil by Essex, and had been led to believe that the
Secretary favoured the title of the Infanta, was overjoyed to
find that he had gained such a supporter, and submitted for
the remainder of Elizabeth’s life to be guided by his counsels.
This prudent conduct eventually found its reward. When the
time came, James was welcomed from Berwick to the Land’s
End, with scarcely a dissentient voice.
CHAPTER III.
JAMES I. AND THE CATHOLICS.
On March 24, within a few hours ^ after the deatli of the
Queen, a meeting was held at Whitehall. The Priv’y Coun-
,603. cillors had hastened in from Richmond, and sum-
March 24- nionscs had been issued requesting the attendance
Council at ^ ^ .
Whitehall, of the Pccrs who were m London at the time,
with that of the Lord Mayor, and of a few other persons of
note.
As soon as those who had been invited had assembled, a
proclamation was produced, which had been composed by
Cecil in anticipation of the death of Elizabeth. A
tion 0™^ copy of it had already been sent to Scotland, and
jaineb I. received the approval of James. - After .some dis-
cussion it was agreed to, and at ten o’clock the whole of the
councillors and nobility present went out before the palac'C-
gate, where the proclamation which announced the peaceable
accession of James 1. was read by Cecil himself in the prescnc'c
of a large concourse of people.^ The ceremony was repeated
in the City. The countenances of all who witnessed it testified
their satisfaction with the step w'hich had been taken. During
the time of the Queen’s illness watch and ward had been kept
in the City. Wealthy men had brought in their plate and
> Add. MS.S., 17B6, fol. 5 h.
~ Bruce, Corresfondenu of King James VI. if Scotland mith Sir A’.
Cecil and others, 47.
^ Beaumont to the King of France, ll5o3, A'ing^s
123, fol. 18 b.
i6o3 JAMES ACKNOWLEDGED IN ENGLAND, 85
treasure from the country, and had put them in places of
security. Ships of war had been stationed in the Straits of
Dover to guard against a foreign invasion ; and some of the
piincipal recusants had, as a matter of precaution, been com-
mitted to safe custody. All the apprehensions with which
men’s minds had been filled were now at an end The citizens
showed their confidence in the Government by putting up their
weapons, and returning to their several occupations. All over
England the proclamation met with a similar reception. If ever
there was an act in which the nation was unanimous, it was the
welcome with which the accession of the new Sovereign was
greeted.
On the day after the proclamation had been issued, Thomas
Somerset and Sir Charles Percy were despatched to Edinburgh
by the Council to inform the King of all that had
Proceeding, passed. It was probably on the following day that a
die* place which, a century earlier, would have
gueeas been of some importance. The Earl of Northumber-
land was a man of considerable learning and ability,
but hot-headed and impatient of control A few days before
the Queen’s death he had been requested, together with Lord
Cobham and Lord Thomas Howard, to take part in the delibera-
tions of the Council He had appeared at the head of more
than a hundred men, had talked loudly of the necessity of
acknowledging James, and had declared that he was ready to
put to death anyone who w^as proposed in opposition to him.*
He now stepped forward in defence of the privileges of the old
nobility. He had heard that the Privy Councillors had met
at the Earl of Nottingham’s, in order to take measures for
removing the Queen’s body to London. He thought this
a good opportunity to remind them that, in consequence of
the death of the Queen, they had ceased to occupy any official
position, until they were confirmed in their places by the new
King. He told them that the peerage had too long been
^ Bodeiie to Villeroi, 1606, Ambassadcs, i. 181. In an account
July 6,
which he gave of h'S appeaiance at the Council to the King {Cornspondence
sj Janies VI, laiih Sir R. Cecily p. 73) Northumbeiland says nothing of
CH. HI.
L<6 /AMES L AND THE CATHOLICS.
tieated with contempt, and that they were determined to sub-
mit to it no longer. Sir Thomas Egerton, the Lord Keeper,
with admirable self-control, at once admitted that his authority
ceased with the death of the Queen, and proposed that he, and
all the Councillors who were not members of the Upper House,
should resign to the Lords their seats at the head of the table.
The peers who were present would not hear of this proposal,
and everything went on as usual ^
As may be imagined, the Councillors were not anxious to
prolong this uncertain position of affairs, and messengers were
, „ again despatched to the King begging him to estab-
MarchaS. « ^ ^ ,
Order lisli soiue Settled government. Practically no harm
prevails. doHC. The Frciich ambassador was struck, as
his countrymen have often been on similar occasions, with the
ready obedience which was paid to authorities wlio held power
by so uncertain a tenure. Even in those days the long exercise
of the duties and privileges of self-government enabled English-
men to pass through a political crisis with a calmness which ap-
peared almost miraculous in the eyes of a foreigner. On Ajiril 5,
however, the crisis was at an end. The Government was able to
inform the people that letters had been received from the King,
confirming all officers in their places till his arrival in Juiglund.
The two gentlemen who had been selected by the Council
were not the first to carry the great news to iCdinburgh. A
certain George Marshall was probably the first to
bear the information to James.- Sir Kof;crt Carey
Iflhr"* slipped away as soon as he wa.s (xatain of the
Queen’s death, having jirtwiou.sly taken tlie precau-
tion of placing post-horses along the road. He
hoped to reap a rich reward by being the bearer of the news
that his bcnefiictress was no longer able to do him offices of
kindness. He was prol)al)ly, however, antic'ipatcvi by ^^lursliall,
^ I suppo.se this to lie as accurate an account as can he oltaiiietl fruin
the conflicting staiement.s contaiiu'd in .■/(/</. 4V.V.V. 178a, fol. 5hj 718,
fol 3|. b, and Peaunumt to the King of Prance, {/un/s
HSS. 123, fol. 29 b). The .scene ceitaiuly pi.u'e Iscfuic t!jc ablh,
when the Queen’s body was actually rcuinvcd.
- Marshall to Salh'niry, Jan. 4, Uuo. /IufJwU J/.V.S, 195, fuh 95.
87
i6o3 JAMES ARRIVES IN ENGLAND,
and it is satisfactory to know that, although he was taken into
favour by James, the rewards which he received were, in his
own estimation, an inadequate remuneration of the service
which he rendered on this important occasion.^
On April 5, the new Sovereign set out from Edinburgh.
The impression which he created was on the whole favourable.
Aprii s. Of his deeper characteristics, nothing could as yet be
known. His personal appearance was in his favour
Edinburgh. Hc was soinewhat above the middle height, fair-com-
plexioned, fond of active exercises, especially in the hunting-
field, and well pleased to throw ceremony aside with those whom
he admitted to his intimacy.^ His moral habits were praise-
worthy. He was faithful and affectionate to his wife, Anne of
Denmark, though her levity must often have annoyed him, and
though he was certainly not abstemious, he was never intoxi-
cated.^
James did not arrive in the neighbourhood of London till
May 3. He must have thought that he had entered upon the
government of El Dorado. Every nobleman and gentleman
kept open house as he passed. He spent his time in festivities
and amusements of various kinds. The gentry of the counties
through which his journey lay thronged in to see him". Most of
them returned home decorated with the honours of knighthood,
a title which he dispensed with a profusion which astonished
those who remembered the sober days of Elizabeth. One act
of his gave rise to no friendly comments. At Newark he or-
dained that a cutpurse, who was taken in the crowd, should at
once be hanged without form of trial. As he never repeated
’ Memoirs of Sir R. Carey ^ p. 180.
- The descriptions of James as weak in body, and unable to sit a horse
ivithout falling oif, no doubt apply to him only later in life. “II Re, ” writes
one who saw him at this time, “edi faccia bella, nobile, e giovale ; di
color bianco, pclo assai biondo, barba quadra e lunghetta, bocca piccola,
occhi azzurri, naso asciutto e profllato, uoino allegro, ne grasso ne magio,
di vita ben fatta, piii tosto grande che piccolo.” — Degli Effetti to Del
Bufalo, June Roman Timtscripsy R, 0 .
» The evidence of his physician, Sir T. Mayerne (in ERis, ser. 2, iii.
197), is decisive on this laoint. He drank great quantities of not very
strong wine, and his head was never affected by it,
88 JAMES L AKD THE CATHOLICS. ch. in.
this mistake, it may be supposed that he was warned by ids
councillors that he could not violate with impunity the first
principles of English law.
The number of those who were flocking northwards gave
some uneasiness to the Councillors. To the proclamation in
which they announced that the King had confirmed them in their
ofifices they added a paragraph forbidding general resort to the
new Sovereign. It may reasonably be supposed that they had
other motives than a desire to save the northern counties fiom
the crowds which threatened to devour all their resources,^ It
is not strange that the men who had j)ossessed the confidence
of the late Queen, and who had skilfully held the reins of
government duiinglhe critical times which were now happily at
an end, should have been anxious to be the first to give an
account of their stewardship to their new master. A day or
two after the issue of the proclamation they put a stop to the
journey of the man whom above all others they were desirous
sir Walter keeping at a distance from the King. Sir Wktlter
Kaieigh. Raleigh was setting out at the head of a large body
of suitors w'hen he received an order to relinquish his intention.
It is difficult for us at this distance of time to realise the
feelings wuth which Raleigh was regarded by the great mass of
his contemporaries. To us he is the maii'who liad more genius
than all the Privy Council put together. At the first mention
of his name, there rises up before us the remembrance of the
active mind, the meditative head, and the bold heart, which
have stamped themselves indelibly upon the pages of the history
of two continents. Above all, we think of him as the vic'tim of
oppression, sobered down by the patient endurance of an un-
deserved imprisonment, and as finally passing into his bloody
grave, struck down by an unjust sentence. 'I'o the greater
number of the men amongst w'hom he moved, he was simply
the most unpopular man in England. Here and there were to
be found a few who knew his worth. Those who hud served
under him, like his faithful Captain Kcymi.s, and lliosc who,
like Sir John Harington, merely met him occasionally in social
1 Cecil and Ivinloss to Lord H. Howard, April Q {.S'. P. Dm, i. l6).
SIR WALTER RALEIGH, £9
intercourse, knew well what the loyal heart of the man really
was. But by the multitude, whom he despised, and by the
grave statesmen and showy courtiers with whom he jostled for
Elizabeth’s favour, he was regarded as an insolent and unprin
cipled wretch, who feared neither God nor man, and who
would shrink from no crime if he could thereby satisfy
his ambitious desiies. 7’here can be no doubt that these
charges, frivolous as they must seem to those who know what
Raleigh’s true nature was, had some basis in his character.
Looking down as he did from the eminence of genius upon the
actions of lesser men, he was too apt to treat them with the
arrogance and sgoni which they seldom deserved, and which it
was certain that they would resent. ^
In the latter years of Elizabeth’s reign his heart had been
set upon becoming a Privy Councillor. Elizabeth was deter-
mined that he should not have the object of his wishes. She
was glad to have him at hand, knowing as she did the value
of his counsel in times of danger, and that there were many
services for which it was impossible to find a fitter man ; but,
at a time when she was herself anxious for peace, she would
not trust in the council chamber a man whose voice was still
for war.
^ Noitliumberknd’s testimony is worth quoting, as he was by no means
likely to invent stories against Raleigh : “ I must needs affirm Raleigh’s
ever allowance of your right, and although I know him insolent, extremely
heated, a man that desires tc seem to be able to sway all men’s course'-',
and a man that out of himself, when your time shall come, shall never he
able to do you much good nor harm, yet must I needs confess what I
know, that there is excellent good parts of nature in him, a man vhose
love IS disadvantageous to me in some sort, which I cheiiiih rather out of
constancy than policy, and one whom I wish your INJajesty not to lose,
because I would not that one hair of a man’s head should be against you
that might be for you.”— Northumberland to James, CorKspoiid<.’nce of
James VI. with Sir R, Cedi p, 67.
A much harsher account of him is given in Sloane MSS. 718. But the
most striking evidence is contained in a despatch of Beaumont’s to the
French King, 1^03 {/ling's MSS. 123, fol. 94 b) : “It was said at
Court,” he writes, “ that Cecil had prucured Raleigh’s disgrace, because he
was unable to snppoit the weight of his unpopularity.” The stoiy is
absurd, but that U should have been invented is significant.
90
/AJfFS L AND THE CATHOLICS. CH. in.
He, too, turned with hope to the rising sun. Like all true-
hearted Englishmen, he saw that the accession of James was
indispensable to the safety of the country, and he trusted to
find his account in the change. As it was, he must have been
miserable enough ; he had not a single friend -with whom he
could co-operate upon equal terms. Northumberland shaied
his counsels, but refrained from giving him his confidence.
The poor mean-spirited Lord Cobham seemed to be the only
human being, with the exception of those who were depen-
dent upon him, who attached himself to him at all. He
tried to take Cecil into his confidence, and to share his
schemes for the furtherance of James’s prospects, but Cecil
preferred to keep his secrets to himself, and warned him off
with a few polite sentences, telling him that he, for one, had
no intention of looking forward to such an event as his mis-
tress’s death.'
With all his good qualities, and they were many, Cecil was
not the man to comprehend Raleigh. Himself without a spark
Sh Robert h*ue genius, he was not likely to be able to detect
Cecil. 'll others. To his orderly and systematic mind,
Raleigh wms a self-seeking adventurer, and Bacon an imagina-
tive dreamer. He could no more understand the thoughts
which filled their minds, than he could understand why the
Catholics ought to be tolerated, or why the Puritan clergy
ought to be allowed to break through the eTablishetl rules of
the Church. His ideas on all important subjects were the ideas
which had been prevalent at the Com t of hllizabeth at the time
when he first grew up to manhood under his father’s care. In
all the numerous speeches which he delivered, and in all lettcns
which have come down to us written by his hand, it is impos-
sible to detect a single original idea. Nor was he mere siua'css-
ful in action. Other men of less ability have left their mark
upon the history of the constitution. No important measure,
lio constitutional improvement, connects itself with the name
• Cecil to James, Con’cs/^omicncc o/Jatiu's 17. Sir AK Ctrl/, p. if>»
This is the only passage in which he mentions Raleigh. It is not compli-
mentary ; but it is. very dirferent from the constant of him by Lord
II. Howard.
SIR ROBERT CECIL
1603
91
of Robert Cecil. As Bacon said of him, he was viagis in opera-’
Cone qtiam in opere.
It was not altogether his own fault. His education had been
against him. Like the Emperors who were born in the purple,
he was unfortunately looked upon from his childhood as an
hereditary statesman. He had never known what it was to be
in opposition. He had never had the inestimable advantage of
mixing whth his countrymen as one who was unconnected with
official position and official men. He was the first and greatest
of that unhappy race of statesmen, who were trained for their
work as for a profession. If he had, like his father, known a
time when the government had been conducted on principles
which he detested, he might have risen into a clearer knowledge
of the wants of the nation which he was called to guide. Even
as it was, he never sank to the level of the Nauntons and the
Windebanks, who were to follow.
James did not hesitate for a moment where to place his
confidence. In after years he w'as in the habit of congratulating
himself that he had not imitated Rehoboam in displacing the
counsellors of his predecessor, and of those counsellors there
was none to whom he owed so deep a debt of gratitude as he
did to Cecil. His first thought on receiving intelligence of the
Queen’s death, was to express his thanks to Cecil for his care-
ful attention to his interests, How happy I think myself,” he
wiote, “ by the conquest of so faithful and so wise a counsellor,
I reserve it to be expressed out of my own mouth unto you.” ^
The confidence which James thus bestowed was never with-
drawn as long as Cecil lived.
Although the sphere of his vision was limited, within that
sphere he was unrivalled by the statesmen of his day. As an
administrator, he was unequalled for patient industry, and for
the calm good sense with which he came to his conclusions.
If he clung to office with tenacity, and if he regarded with un--
due suspicion those who were likely to be his rivals, he was no
mere ambitious aspirant for place, to clutch at all posts the
duties of which he was unwilling or unable to perform. The
^ The King to Cecil, March 27. Hatfield MSS, cxxxiv. 28.
92
CM. in
/AMES I AND THE CATEIOLICS.
labours which he undervvent were enormous. As Secretary, he
had to conduct the whole of the civil administration of the
kingdom, to keep his eye upon the plots and conspiracies which
were bursting out in every direction, to correspond with the Irish
Government and to control its policy, and to carry on throiu^h
the various ambassadors complicated negotiations with every
State of importance in Europe. Besides all this, when Parlia-
ment was sitting, it was on him that the duty chiefly devolved
of making the policy of the Government palatable to the House
of Commons, of replying to all objections, and of obtaining the
King’s consent to the necessary alterations. As if all this were
not enough, during the last few years of his life he undertook
the office of Treasurer in addition to that of Secretary. Upon
him fell all the burden of the attempt which he made to restore
to a sound condition the disordered finances, and of masteriiv^
the numerous details from which alone he could obtain the
knowledge necessary in order to remedy the evil.
To this unflagging industry he added the no less valuable
quality of unfailing courtesy. Nothing ever seemed to ruffle his
temper. When the great financial scheme for which he had
laboured so long, and over which he had spent so many weary
hours, was definitely wrecked, he said no more than that he
thought the Lord had not blessed it. He was one of those
who never willingly wounded the feelings of any man, and who
never treated great or small with insolence.^
Although there are circumstances in his life which tell
against him, it is difficult to read the whole of the letters and
documents which have come down to us from his pen, without
becoming gradually convinced of his honesty of intention. It
cannot be denied that he was satisfied with the ordinary morality
of his time, and that he thought it no shame to keep a state
secret or to discover a plot by means of a falsehc^od. If he
grasped at power as one who took jileasure in the exercise of
it, he used it for what he regarded as the true interests of his
king and country.
‘ The E,xam. of Sir F. Hastings, FeK 1605, E Dorn. xii. 74
IS a Imiubly litt ,'d fur giving an idea of the characters of Cecil, Uuvvard'
nnd egertun, ’
i6o3 henry HOWARD. 91
Nor are we left to his own acts and words as the only means
by which we are enabled to form a judgment of his character. Of
all the statesmen cf the day, not one has left a more blameless
character than the Earl of Dorset Dorset took the opportunity
of leaving upon record in his will, which would not be read till
he had no longer injury or favour to expect in this world, the
very high admiration in which his colleague was held by him.
Of all the statesmen who fell from power during the same
period, it has been considered that none was more unjustly
treated than Northumberland, and of tliis injustice the full
weight has been laid upon Cecil’s shoulders. Yet, a few months
after Northumberland was committed to the Tower, his brother,
Sir Alan Percy, declared his opinion in a private letter that the
removal of Cecil from the Council would be a blow by which
the position of the Earl would only be changed for the worse. ^
When the order was issued for stopping Raleigh’s journey,
Cecil probably thought that he had only done a justifiable act
Lord Henry keeping an unprincipled rival away from the King.
Howard. than this was necessary. It was important
that the Council should have someone by the King’s side who
might act for them as occasion might arise. For this purpose
they selected Lord Henry Howard.
Of all who gathered round the new King, this man was,
beyond all comparison, the most undeserving of the favours
which' he received. He was a younger son of that Earl of
Surrey whose death had been the last of the series of executions
which marked the reign of Henry VIII. ; and his brother, the
Duke of Norfolk, had expiated upon the scaffold the treason
which he had meditated for the sake of the fair face of the
Queen of Scots. His nephew was that Earl of Arundel who
had died in the prison in which he was confined by order of
Elizabeth, and who was reverenced as a martyr by the Engbsh
Catholics. His religion w^as that which openly or secretly had
been the religion of his family. But with this he joined a
reverence for the royal prerogative, which had certainly never
been felt by his kinsmen. There were, indeed, men among the
* Sir A. Percy to Caileton, .Sept. 4, 1606, i”. A Dom. xxiii.
cir. in
92 /Ajfirs / AJVD THE CATHOLICS.
labours which he underwent were enormous. As Secretary, he
had to conduct the whole of the civil administration of the
kingdom, to keep his eye upon the plots and conspiracies which
were bursting out in every direction, to correspond with the Irish
Government and to control its policy, and to carry on through
the various ambassadors complicated negotiations with every
State of importance in Europe. Besides all this, when Parlia-
ment was sitting, it was on him that ihe duty chiefly devolved
of making the policy of the Government palatable to the House
of Commons, of replying to all objections, and of obtaining the
King’s consent to the necessary alterations. As if all this were
not enough, during the last few years of his life he undertook
the office of Treasurer in addition to that of Secretary. Upon
him fell all the burden of the attempt which he made to restore
to a sound condition the disordered finance.s, and of mastering
the numerous details from which alone ho could obtain the
knowledge necessary in order to remedy the evil
To this unflagging industry he added the no less valuable
quality of unfailing courtesy. Nothing ever seemed to ruffle his
temper. When the great financial scheme for which he had
laboured so long, and over which he had spent so many weary
hours, was definitely WTecked, he said no more than that he
thought the Lord had not blessed it. He was one of those
who never willingly wounded the feelings of any man, and who
never treated great or small with insolence. ^
Although there are circumstances in his life which tell
against him, it is difficult to read the whole of the letters and
documents which have come down to us from his pen, without
becoming gradually convinced of his honesty of intention. It
cannot be denied that he was satisfied with the ordinary morality
of his time, and that he thought it no shame to keep a state
secret or to discover a plot by means of a falsehood. If he
grasped at power as one who took pleasure in the exercise of
it, he used it for what he regarded as the true interests of his
king and country.
1 The Exam, of Sir F. Hastings, Feb, 1605, S. P, Dorn, xil 74,
is a Imirably fitted forgiving an idea of the characters of Cecil, Howard,
and tigerton.
i6o3 LOI^D henry HOWARD. 91
Nor are we left to his o^nti acts and words as the only means
by which we are enabled to form a judgment of his character. Of
all the statesmen cf the day, not one has left a more blameless
character than the Earl of Dorset. Dorset took the opportunity
of leaving upon record in his will, which would not be read till
he had no longer injury or favour to expect in this world, the
very high admiration in which his colleague was held by him.
Of all the statesmen who fell from power during the same
period, it has been considered that none was more unjustly
treated than Northumberland, and of this injustice the full
weight has been laid upon Cecil’s shoulders. Yet, a few months
after Northumberland was committed to the Tower, his brother,
Sir Alan Percy, declared his opinion in a private letter that the
removal of Cecil from the Council would be a blow by which
the position of the Earl would only be changed for the worse. ^
When the order was issued for stopping Raleigh’s journey,
Cecil probably thought that he had only done a justifiable act
Lord Henry keeping an unprincipled rival away from the King.
Howard. j^-^ore than this was necessary. It was important
that the Council should have someone by the King’s side who
might act for them as occasion might arise. Eor this purpose
they selected Lord Henry Howard.
Of, all who gathered round the new King, this man was,
beyond all comparison, the most undeserving of the favours
which* he received. He w^s a younger son of that Earl of
Surrey whose death had been the last of the series of executions
wLich marked the reign of Henry VIII. j and his brother, the
Duke of Norfolk, had expiated upon the scaffold the treason
which he had meditated for the sake of the fair face of the
Queen of Scots. His nephew was that Earl of Arundel who
had died in the prison in which he was confined by order of
Elizabeth, and who was reverenced as a martyr by the EngMsh
Catholics. His religion was that which openly or secretly had
been the religion of his family. But with this he joined a
reverence for the royal prerogative, which had certainly never
been felt by his kinsmen. There were, indeed, men among the
* Sir A. Percy to Carleton, Sept, 4, 1606, .S’. R. Dorn, xxiii.
94 JAMES /. AND THE CATHOLICS. CH. iii.
Catholic lords, such as the Earl of Worcester, whose loyalty
was unimpeached. But IFoward would not be content with
the unobtrusive performance of duties with wdricli these men
had been satisfied. In an age when what we should call the
grossest flattery was used as frequently as phrases of common
civility are by us, he easily bore away the palm for suppleness
and flattery. Long ago he had attached himself to James, and
he had been by him recommended to Cecil. It w^ould be
curious to know how far the feeling with which Cecil regarded
Raleigh w-as owing to the influence of so w'orthless a companion.
Certain it is that Howard hated Raleigh with a perfect hatred,
and that Cecil’s estrangement from that great man began about
the time when he w'as first brought into close communion with
Howard. Yet with all his faults, the man w'as no mere empty-
headed favourite. He was possessed of considerable abilities,
and of no small extent of learning. He took his share in the
duties of government with credit, but, as long as Cecil lived,
he was obliged to be content to play a secondary part.
A few days later Cecil himself went down to meet the King.
He had not been with him long before Raleigh learned that
he was not to retain his position as Captain of the
Guard. There can be little doubt that James was
from thf guided in this step by Cecil and Howard. On the
Oiptanicvof other hand, it w^as natural enough that he should
wish to see a post of such importance about his own
person in the hands of one of his countrymen, Raleigh him-
self was allowed to see the King at Burghley, where he probably
did his utmost to throw blame on his rivals. James, however,
paid little attention to his pleadings, and it was not long before
Raleigh received a formal announcement that the command
of the Guard was given to Sir Thomas Erskine, who had already
filled the same office in Scotland. Raleigh was compensated
for his loss by the remission ^ of a payment of 300/. a year,
which had been charged upon his government of Jersey, and of
large arrears of debt which he owed to the Crown.*
» Cecil to Windthank, May 21, S, P. Dorn. i. 93. ''
2 The existence of a memoir by Raleigh against Cecil rests upon a note
of Wei wood’s to Wilson’s James L, In Ernmi^ il 663. He says he had
i6o3 scotch and ENGLISH. 95
Tne removal of Raleigh from the Captaincy of the Guard
was only one of the changes in favour of Scotchmen by which
in the early days of the new reign the court was
Quarrels agitated. As yet, however, it was a mere courtiers’
ScoSajid question, in which the nation took little part. All
English. offices of State were still in the hands of
Englishmen. One Scotchman, indeed, Lord Kinloss, became
Master of the Rolls ; another, Sir George Hume, became
Chancellor of the Exchequer and Master of the Wardrobe.
But there, so far as public offices were concerned, the
promotions which fell to the share of James’s countrymen
ceased The seats which some of them received in the Privy
Council were, for the most part, little more than honorary,
and do not seem to have given them any great influence over
the conduct of affairs. It was as Gentlemen of the Bedchamber,
as Masters of the Harriers, and as holders of similar posts about
the King’s person, that they provoked the math of Englishmen
seen a MS. of Buck, who was secretary to Egerton, in wliich he mentions this
memorial. This evidence has not been thought by Raleigh’s admirers to
be very good, but it seems to be put beyond doubt by a passage in a de-
spatch of Beaumont to Villeroi,^—^ 1603 [Nine's MSS. 123, fol. 94b).
I[e says that Raleigh h^d been dismissed, ‘ dont le dite Sieur Ralle est en
une telle furie, que partant pour' aller trouver le Roy, il a proteste de liiy
declarer et faire voir par escrit tout la caballe, et les intelligences qu’il dit
que le Sieur Cecil a dress^es et conduittes k son prejudice.’ Another
story of Raleigh I have less belief in. Osborne speaks of him, in common
with Cobham and Fortescue, as wishing, apparently before the proclama->
tion of the morning of March 24, ‘to bind the King to articles ’ which
were in some way to be directed against the advancement of Scotchmen.
This has been magnified into a constitutional opposition, which it certainly
was not^ as the Council had no constitutional power to bind the King, and
anything they might do would have been treated by James as a dead letter.
Raleigh, too, does not seem to have been present, as his name doe.s not
appear among those who signed the proclamation, though he was admitted
,at a consultation in the evening, and signed the letter to the King, then
written {Spottiswoods^ Spottiswoode Society’s edition, iii. 133). Perhaps
the story is founded on some language used by Raleigh after he was super-
seded by Erskine. Fortescue also had to make room for Sir George Hume
as Chancellor of the Exchequer, which would acc'^unt for 'the introduction
of his name.
96 JAMES L AXE THE CATHOLICS. CH. m.
who aspired to these positions. It was not till the sums which
should have been applied to national purposes were squandeied
upon favourites of both nations that the discontent became
general Cecil did his best to put an end to these quarrels, but
he did not meet with much success.
The evils under which the English Catholics laboured were
of no ordinary description. In the first place, not only was all
Grievances pubHc Celebration of their worship interdicted, but
Msh the mere fact of saying mass was sufficient to bring
Catholics. piiest Under the penalties of treason, and those
penalties were extended to all who should assist or ‘ comfort
Jiim,’ as the law expressed it. As there were no Catliolics who
had not at some time or another been present at a mass, the
I)ower of the Government to send the whole number of tliein
TO execution was only limited by the difficulties of obtaining
evidence. If they failed in this, the Ecclesiastical Courts could
always issue an excommunication for simple recusancy, or
abstaining from attendance upon the Church by law established,
and upon this the Civil Courts were empowered to commit the
recusant to prison until he submitted. Of course, these harsh
measures were only very sparingly employed. But if the
penalty did not fall upon all who were threatened, it was kept
constantly hanging over their heads, and the Catholics were
always liable to arbitrary imprisonments and fines, of which
they did not dare to complain, as they were allowed to escape
V'ithout suffering the full penalty of the law.
But, besides all this, there was a regular system of fines for
recusancy authorised by statute. In the first place, all recu-
The recu- saiits wlio had Sufficient property were liable to a fine
saucy Hues. 30/. a luonth. Of those who were so liable at the
death of Elizabeth the number was only sixteen. I'hose who
could not pay such large sums forfeited, if the Government
chose to exact the penalty, two-thirds of their lands until
they conformed. This land was leased out by Commissioners
appointed by the Crown for the purpose, and the lessee paid a
certain rent into the Exchequer. There still remained another
mode of reaching those who had no lands to lose, as the goods
and chattels of any person convicted of recusancy might be
t6o2
THE ENGLISH CATHOLICS.
97
taken possession of by the Crown. Hard as this treatment
was, it was made worse by the misconduct of the constables
and pursuivants, whose business it was to search for the priests
who took refuge in the secret chambers which were always to be
found in the mansions of the Catholic gentry. These wretches,
under pretence of discovering the concealed fugitives, were in
the habit .of wantonly destroying the furniture or of carrying off
valuable property. It was useless to complain, as there were
few, if any. Catholics who had not given the law a hold upon
them by the support given to their priests.
Under such an abominable system, it is no wonder that the
Catholics were anxious for any change which might improve
Hopes of their condition, and that they were hardly likely to
^enrby*^*' acquiescc in the doctrine that they were only punished
James. foj- treason, and not for religion. It was natural,
tlierefore, that both the Pope and the English Catholics should
look with hopefulness to the new reign. Both the declarations
which James had made, and the manner in which he had acted
in Scotland, made many of them expect to find a protector in
him.
As Elizabeth’s reign drew to a close. Pope Clement VIII.,
in response to the letter which had been brought to him by
, . Drummond, and which he believed to have ema-
mission to natcd from James himselv thought of despatching
the Bishop of Vaison to Scotland.^ In order, however,
to be thoroughly sure of his ground, he took advantage of a
visit which Sir James Lindsay, a Scottish Catholic, was pre-
paring to make to his native country, to sound James on his
intentions towards the Catholics. Lindsay brought with him a
complimentary letter from Clement to the King. He was also
directed to assure James that the Pope was ready to thwart any
designs w^hich might be entertained by the English Catholics in
opposition to his claim to the throne, and to invite him, if he
would not himself forsake the Protestant faith, at least to allow
his eldest son to be educated in the Catholic religion. If this
* See p. So.
* James to Elizabeth, Correspondence of Elkabeth and Janus VI., 153.
VOL. 1.
H
^3 JAMES I AND THE CATHOLICS. cn. iiT.
were done, Clement was ready to place a large sum of money
at James’s disposal.^ To this message James returned a verbal
answer, giving to Lindsay at the same time a paper of instruc-
tions for his guidance. In these he was directed to tell the
Pope that ' the King could not satisfy his desire in those par-
ticular points contained in his letter.’ He was much obliged
to him for his offers to befriend him, and hoped to be able
to return his courtesy. He would never dissemble his own
opinions, and would never reject reason whenever he heard it.®
Lindsay was prevented by illness from returning, and the Pope
received no answer to his proposal till after the crisis had passed.^
The Pope, indeed, before he was aware of James’s favourable
intentions, had sent two breves to Garnet, the Provincial of the
The breves English Jesuits, in which directions were given that,
English Elizabeth died, the Catholics should take
(iaildics, care that, if possible, no one should be allowed to
succeed except one who would not only grant toleration, but
would directly favour the Catholic relig’on.'* When Garnet
^ The King to Parry, Nov. 1603. The Latin letter sent to he commu-
nicated to the Nuncio is printed in Tierney’s Dodd. iv. App. p. kvi. The
draft in English is amongst the Hatfield MSS. irs, fol. 150. Compare
Cranborne to Lennox, Jan. 1605, S. P. Fratue. The proposal about Prince
Henry's education had first been broached in the pretended commission of
Pury Ogilvy.— -.S’. P. Scotland^ Iviii. 8 1.
^ Instructions, Oct. 24, 1602, . 9 . P. Scofl. Ixix. 20. There can be no
reasonable douljt that these instructions were actually given in Scotland.
® In the spring of 1603 the Bishop of Vai.son was in Paris. There is a
curious account in a letter of the Laird of Indernyty to James 1^03,
S. P. Scot! Ixix. 56, i.}, of a conversation between himself, the Bishop,
and the Nuncio at Paris. The Nuncio was doubtful as to James’s inten-
tions, and said ‘ he would suspend his judgment till Sir J. Lindsay re-
turned.’ Thi.s shows that no message had been sent by another hand upon
Lindsay’s illness, as would have been the case had James been anxious to
vin the Pope by hypocritical promises.
* Garnet’s examinations in Jardine’s Gunpoivder Plot^ App. p. iii., throw
back the date of the breves. Their language does not suit with an inten-
tion to allow James’s claim, but the Pope may have desired to alter his
language as soon as he knew what James’s intentions were. There is a
note written by the Pope in the margin of Degli Effetti’s letter of
1603, in which it is suggested that Clement may have Tiritten letters before
i6o2
TOLERATION ASKED FOR.
99
received these breves, early in 1602, he was at White Webbs,
a house frequented by the Jesuits, in Enfield Chase. He was
there consulted by Catesby, Tresham, and Winter, men whose
names afterwards became notorious for their connection with the
Gunpowder Plot, as to the propriety of sending one of their
number to the King of Spain, in order to induce him to attempt
an invasion of England. Winter was selected, and though
Garnet, according to his_ own account, disapproved of these
proceedings, he gave him a letter of introduction to Father
Cresswell, at Madrid. Winter found a good reception in Spain ;
but Elizabeth died before any preparations were made. Garnet
either saw that there was no chance of resisting James, or was
satisfied that the lot of the Catholics would be improved under
, and burnt the breves.^ Another mission was sent
n, but the King was now anxious for peace with England,
^Id give no assistance.
ards the end of 1602, or in the beginning of the fol-
an attempt was made in another quarter to
obtain a direct promise of toleration from James.
Northumberland did not care much about religion
himself, but he was closely connected with several
Catholics, who urged him to obtain a promise from the King
that he would do something to improve their condition. He
accordingly sent one of his relations, Thomas Percy, to James,
with a letter, in w'hich, after professing his own loyalty and
giving him much good advice, he added that ‘ it were pity to
lose so good a kingdom for not tolerating a mass in a corner.’^
Percy, on his return, gave out that toleration had been promised
by James. In the King’s written answer to Northumberland,
Elizabeth’s death to authorise assistance being given to a Catholic insur-
rection. In this note the Pope says : ‘ Non le habbiamo scritte a quel
tempo ne a questo, anzi tutto il contrario .’ — Rotnan Transcripts^ R. 0 ,
* Tierney’s Dodd. iv. App. p. ii.
“ Correpondence of yanies VI. -with Sir R. Cecil, 56, The identifi-
cation of this letter with the one sent by Percy rests partly upon James’s
description of the bearer in his answer (p, 61), and partly on a reference
to that answ'er in Coke's speech at Northumberland's trial.
H 2
TOO
yAM£S /. AA^D THE CATHOLICS. cu.m.
however, not a word is to be found referring to his proposal on
this subject. ‘ Northumberland, who continued the correspon-
dence, again pressed the matter upon the King. This time he
received an answer. “ As for Catholics,” wrote James, “ I will
neither persecute any that will be quiet and give but an outward
obedience to the law, neither will I spare to advance any of
them that will by good service worthily deserve it.”^ It is plain
that, though to a sanguine mind these words might seem to
convey a promise of toleration, there w^as nothing in them really
inconsistent with the deportation of every priest in England.
The ease with which James’s title was acclaimed in England
did something to raise doubts in his mind as to the value of the
James’s scrvices which the Catholics had offered him. “ Na,
na,” he was heard to say, “we’ll not need the Papists
accession, now.”^ But on the whole the information which
reached London was such as to reassure the Catholics. James
had openly declared that he would not exact the fines. He
would not make merchandise of conscience, nor set a price
upon faith.
James continued to hold this language during his journey
southwards. On May 3 he arrived at Theobalds, a house
May 3. belonging to Cecil, not far from London. His first
.wTvesat increase his popularity. He
Theobalds, ordered that Southampton, and the remainder of
those who had been imprisoned for their share in the rebellion
of Essex, should be set at liberty. Four days after his arrival
he issued a proclamation concerning those monopolies
caiiS'in * which still remained in force, commanding all persons
to abstain from making use of them till they could
satisfy the Council that they were not prejudicial to the King’s
subjects. The patentees w’ere accordingly allowed to state their
case before the Council, and the greater part of the existing
' Unless, indeed, as Coke said, James meant to refuse it when he said
that he did not intend to make ‘ any alteration in the state, government, or
laws.’ From the place which this sentence occupies in the letter, I do
not think that it was intended to bear any such meaning.
* Correspondence of fames VI. with Sir R. Cecil, 75.
* Tierney’s Todd. iv. App. p. 1 .
* Degli Effelti to Del Bufalo, June Roman Iranscripts, R. 0.
i6o3 SPAIN AND THE NETHERLANDS.
lot
monopolies were called in. No doubt this was done by the
advice of the Council. That advice was also given
in support of the continued exaction of the Recu-
sancy fines, and James accordingly gave way and
ordered the fines to be collected If the Catholics,
he said openly, were of a religion different from his
own, they could not be good subjects.^ Cecil was
now in high favour.
On May 13 he was raised to the peerage by the title of
Lord Cecil of Essen don. Three other barons were created at
the same time. These were the first of a series of creations
which raised the numbers of the House of Lords with a rapidity
that w^ould have astonished Elizabeth.
Having, at all events for the present, refused toleration to
the Catholics, James turned his attention to his foreign relations.
Peace or England was concerned, with the exception
war with of the disputed right to trade in the East and West
Indies, there was absolutely no reason whatever for
continuing the war. The failure of the Spaniards in their
attempt to gain a footing in Ireland before Elizabeth died had
been complete, and they could no longer cherish any hopes of
success in a similar undertaking. Their new king, Philip III,
sluggish and incapable as he was, was not likely to attempt to
renew his father’s aggressive policy, and it was known that his
all-powerful minister, Lerma, was anxious to recruit by peace
the exhausted strength of the kingdom. Under these circum-
stances there wanted little more to constitute a treaty between
the two Powers than the few lines in which the simple announce-
ment might be made that hostilities were at an end.
The difficulty which stood in the way was caused by the
interminable war in the Netherlands. Since the murder of the
French king Henry III. the Dutch had taken advan-
the^NSher- tage of the diversion which had called away the best
generals and the finest soldiers of Spain to spend
their strength in a vain struggle against the rising fortunes of
Henry IV., and had pushed on, under the able leadership of
* Degli Effetti to Del Bufalo, June Roman Ti-anscriptSi R,Ot
The recu-
sancy fines
to be col-
lected.
May T3,
Cecil rais'ed
to the
peerage.
102
yj 3 IES I AND THE CATHOLICS. cn. in.
Maurice, and the no less able statesmanship of Barneveld, till
they had swept the Spaniards from the soil of the Seven United
Provinces. At last the whole war gathered round Ostend. All
the skill and vigour of the Dutch, and of their English allies
under the command of Sir Francis Vere, were put forth in
defence of that bulwark of the Republic. The siege had
now lasted for no less than three long years. With all his
military skill, Spinola was still unable to force an entrance.
But the Dutch were calling loudly for assistance, and declared
that, unless succour were promptly afforded, Ostend must fall,
in spite of the valour of its defenders, and that after the fall of
Ostend their own territory would become untenable.
'There was a large party in England which was desirous to
fight the quarrel out with Spam. To many Englishmen Spain
was the accursed power which had filled two conti-
party in nents with bloodshed. It was the supporter of the
England, tyranny and wickedness under
which the world was suffering. This evil power was now
weakened by repeated failures. Why not strike one more
blow for the cause of God, and hew the monster down ? Such
feelings found a spokesman in Raleigh. In a paper, which,
in the course of the spring, he drew up for presentation to
James, he argued with his usual ability for the good old cause.
Especially, he pleaded strongly for the Dutch. They had been
allies of England in the weary hours of doubt and difficulty.
Together the two countries had borne the burden of the day.
It was disgraceful-— it was infamous — for Englishmen to desert
their brothers now' that hope was beginning to appear. Not
long afterwards Raleigh offered to lead 2,000 men against the
King of Spain at his own expense,^
Of the spirit of righteous indignation which had animated
the Elizabethan heroes in their conflict with Spain, James knew
Opinions nothing. He declared for peace immediately upon
ofjamcs. tijs arrival in England. He issued a proclamation
forbidding the capture of Spanish prizes, and waited for the
* ‘A Discourse touching a War with Spain. viH. 299. Ra-
leigh to Nottingham and others, Aug. Edwards’ Life ii. 271.
THE AH LOCATES OF PEACE.
103
1603
overtures which he expected from the Court of Spain. Besides
this eagerness for peace, he was possessed with the idea that
the Dutch were engaged in an unlawful resistance to their law-
ful king, an idea in which .the bishops did their best to confirm
him.^ He was never w^eary of repeating publicly, to the disgust
of the statesmen who had taken part in the counsels of Elizabeth,
that the Dutch were mere rebels, and that they deserved no
assistance from him.
It is difficult to ascertain with precision what Cecil’s views
really were. His father had been the advocate of a policy of*
Cecil’s peace. When Essex, at the Court of Elizabeth, was
views. crying out for war, the aged Burghley opened a Bible,
and pointed to the text : “ Bloody and deceitful men shall not
live out half their days.” Of the memorial on the state of foreign
affairs ^ which Burghley’s son now presented to the King, and
in which he expressed his thoughts on foreign affairs, a frag-
ment only has been preserved. From that fragment, however,
it is plain that he fully shared all Raleigh’s dislike of Spain, and
that he was anxious, by all possible means, to check the pro-
gress of the Spanish arms in the Netherlands. But he looked
upon the whole subject with the eye of a statesman. The lost
pages of the memorial probably contained the reasons why it
was impossible for England to continue hostilities. He knew,
as Elizabeth had known, that England could not bear many
Financial Y^ars of War. Parliament had voted supplies
difficulties, no ordinary alacrity, but even these supplies had
not relieved the Queen from the necessity of raising money by
extensive sales of Crown property, and by contracting loans
which were waiting for a speedy repayment. The revenue of
the Crown was decreasing, and with the very strictest economy
it was impossible for the new King to bring even a peace
expenditure within the limits of that revenue which he had
received from his predecessor. If Spain was to be driven out
of the Netherlands, Parliament must be prepared to vote sup-
plies far larger than they had ever granted to Elizabeth, in times
when England itself was in danger.
' The King to Abbot, Wilkins’s Couc. iv. 405..
‘ S. P, Dorn. i. 17.
IC4 yA^fES /. AND THE CATHOLICS. CH. iii.
As far as we can judge by the reports of his language which
have reached us through the unfriendly medium of the de-
spatches of French ambassadors, Cecil was anxious
to see a peace concluded .which would relieve Eng-
land from the burden of an objectless war, and at the
same time, to put a check on the encroachments of Spain. The
scheme which he would perhaps have preferred, had it been
practicable, was the union of the whole of the seventeen pro-
vinces under an independent government, which would be
strong enough to bid defiance to France as well as to Spain. ^
Such a scheme has always found favour in the eyes of English
statesmen. But in 1603, the project would certainly have met
with even less success than in 1814. Philip IL indeed had,
shortly before his death, taken a step which was intended to
facilitate such a settlement He had made over the sove-
reignty of the Netherlands to his eldest daughter Isabella and
her husband the Archduke Albert, a younger brother of the
Emperor Rudolph II. He hoped that the rebels, as he still
styled them, would be ready to come to terms with his daughter,
lliough they were unwilling to treat with himself. But even if
the Dutch had felt any inclination to submit to a Catholic
Sovereign, there w'ere especial reasons which warned them from
accepting the dominion of the Archdukes, as the husband and
wife were called. I'heir sovereignty was hampered with so
many conditions, and the presence of Spanish troops at the
seat of war reduced them to such practical impotence, that it
was almost a mockery to speak of them as independent rulers.
Besides, no children had been born to the marriage, and the
reversion of their rights was vested in the Crown of Spain.
The Dutch had another plan for uniting the seventeen pro-
’ Tliis is undoubtedly the meaning of Rosny, when he says that Cecil,
with Egerton and Buckhurst, were ‘ tous d’humeurs anciennes Angloises,
e’est k dire ennemies de la France, pen amies de I’Espagne, et absoluroent
port^es pour faire resusciter la maison de Bourgogne.’— Aate, iV/, iv. 431,
Col. Petitot. Mr. Motley unfortunately founded his whole account of this
embassy on Sully’s Mimoires, not having been aware that no dependence
can be placed on that form of the work. His narrative is therefore
thoroughly untrustworthy.
rx)3 THE DUTCH MISSION. lOS
vinces under one government. Let hut France and England
join in one great effort, and in the course of a year not a single
Spanish soldier would be left in the Netherlands.
Was this a policy which an English Government would be
justified in carrying out, certain as it was to try the energies of
the nation to the utmost ? The dull, demoralising tyranny of
the sixteenth century had done its work too well. To form a
republic which should include the Spanish Provinces would be
to realise the fable of the old Italian tyrant, and to bind the
living to the dead This was no work for which England was
bound to exhaust her strength.
The true policy of England undoubtedly lay in another
direction. If it were once understood that no peace would be
made unless the independence of the existing republic were
recognised, Spain would certainly submit to the proposed terras.
The free North would retain its liberty, the paralysed South
would slumber on under the despotism which it had been
unable or unwilling to shake off.
It was not the fault of the English Government that this in-
evitable settlement was postponed through so many years of
The Dutch The first embassy which arrived in England to
embassy. congratulate the new King upon his accession was
one from Holland. Barneveld himself had come to see if any
help could be obtained from James. Cecil told him plainly
that the King desired peace, but that he was ready to consider
the case of the States in the negotiation. The Dutch ambassa-
dors answered that peace with Spain was impossible for them.
It' was no wonder that after all the trickery which they had
experienced, they should feel a dislike to enter upon a treaty
with their enemy, but they can hardly have expected James to
engage himself in an interminable war. Their immediate pur-
pose was, however, to obtain succour for Ostend. Barneveld
seems to have made an impression upon the susceptible mind
of James, and was, perhaps, the first who induced him to doubt
the truth of the sweeping condemnations which he had been
accustomed to pass on the cause of the Dutch. He was told,
however, that nothing could be finally settled till the arrival of
the special embassy which was expected shortly from France-
CH. III.
ro6 y-AMES L AND THE CATHOLICS,
The ambassador who had been chosen by Henry IV. was
Rosny’s ^16 Celebrated Rosny, better known to us by his
later title as the Duke of Sully. His main object
Fiance. coming was to induce James to afford some
succour to Ostend.
About the time of his arrival in England, a circumstance
occurred which was more favourable to hiS' design than any
arguments which it was in his power to use. A priest named
Gwynn ^ was taken at sea, and confessed to his captor that his
intention in coming to England was to murder the King. The
readiness with which he gave this information gives cause for a
suspicion that he was not in the full possession of his senses.
However this may have been, it was, at least, certain that he
came from Spain, and the fright which this affliir caused the
King, predisposed him to listen to Rosny’s stories of Spanish
treachery.*^
On the occasion of Rosny's first presentation to James, a
curious incident took place. He had come prepared to put
Rosny himself and his suite into mourning for the late
Sjtwlppear J^st as he w’as about to leave his apart-
inmourniug. i^ents, he was informed that the King would be
better pleased if he did not come in mourning.^ There was
nothing for it but to submit The Frenchmen drew their own
inferences as to the repute in which the great Queen was held
at the court of her successor. Many months were not to pass
’ Cecil to Parry, May 25, Cott, MSS. Cal. E. x. 59. Rosny to the
King of France, June 24, Econ. Roy^ iv. 329.
^ Cecil to Parry, June lo, S. P. Fr. St. Aubyn to the Council, June 6.
Godolphin and Harris to the Council, June 23, 1603, with enclosures,
S. P. Dorn. ii. 3, 15.
® James seems to have had a general dislike to anything which reminded
him of death. When his son Henry was dying he left London rather than
be present at the death-bed. He did not allow many weeks to pass after
the death of his queen, in 1619, before he threw off his mourning, to the
astonishment of the ambassadors, v. ho had come prepared to offer their
condolences. Taken separately, each of these circumstances has been
interpreted as a sign of the King’s feelings in the particular case. But it is
more probable that his conduct was the result of a weakness which occa-
sionally shows itself in feeble mind.s.
THE FRENCH MNiSION.
1603
107
away before James would speak more reverently of Elizabeth
than he was, at this time, accustomed to do. Unfortunately,
when that time came, it was chiefly the errors in her policy
which attracted his respect.^
Rosny’s instructions authorised him to use all means in his
power to induce James to unite with France and the Dutch
Rosnysin- Republic in opposing the designs of Spain. Henry
structions. j^Qi- indeed prepared at once to embark on a
w^ar with his powerful neighbour ; but he was desirous of giving
a secret support to the Dutch, and he hoped that James might
be induced to pursue a similar course. If, however, it should
happen that James preferred to continue the war, Rosny was to
discuss the best means of carrying it on, without coming to
any final resolution. He was also to propose that the alliance
between the two Crowns should be strengthened by a double
marriage — of the Dauphin with James’s only daughter, the Lady
Elizabeth ; and of Prince Henry with Elizabeth, the eldest
daughter of the King of France.®
After some little time had been spent in negotiations, Rosny
obtained from James, by a treaty signed at Hampton Court,
June. which he had been commissioned
Treaty with to demand. James promised to allow the levy of
soldiers in England and Scotland for the defence of
Ostend, but it was agreed that Henry should defray the ex-
penses of this force, though a third part of the cost was to be
deducted from a debt which he owed to the English Govern-
ment^ With respect to the double marriage nothing was
settled. James, on one occasion, drank to the success of the
future union ; but all the four children were still very young, and
there was no necessity of coming to any immediate decision.
On July 21 two members of the Privy Council were raised
to the peerage. The Lord Keeper Egerton, who was now
dignified with the higher title of Chancellor, became Lord
1 Barlow tells us that at the Hampton Court Conference James never
mentioned Elizabeth’s name without adding some respectful title. He
does not appear to have relapsed into his previous misplaced contempt.
® Sully, Eton, Roy, Col. Petit ot, iv. 261,
* Dumont, Diplom, v. part 2, p. 30.
ro8 yAMES L AND THE CATHOLICS. cam
Ellesmere ; and Lord Howard of Walden, who, as well as his
uncle Lord Henry, had been admitted to the Council, was
Creation of c^^atcd Eai'l of Suffolk. He had served with distinc-
peers. ^it sea lYL many of the naval expeditions which
had been sent forth during the latter years of the late reign. He
was known as a well meaning, easy-tempered man, of moderate
talents. It is possible that Lord Henry’s known attachment to
the religion of his father^ may have influenced James in se-
lecting the nephew rather than the uncle as the first recipient
of such honours amongst the family of the Howards. It was
not till some months later that Lord Henry was raised to the
peerage. The young head of the family, too, received back
his father’s lost honours, and the name of the Earl of Arundel
was once more heard amongst those of the English nobility.
During the month of July the Council was busy in tracking
out a Catholic conspiracy which had come to light. Among
Watson’s CathoUcs who had visited James in Scotland
Tame° before his accession to the English throne, was
William Watson, one of the secular priests who had
been very busy in his opposition to the Jesuits, and had taken
a considerable part in the strife which had divided the English
Catholics during the last years of Elizabeth’s reign. A vain,
unwise man, his predominant feeling was a thorough hatred
of the Jesuits. “ He received,” as he tells us, ‘La gracious and
comfortable answer on behalf of all Catholics known to be
loyal subjects.”^ Armed with this promise, and probably ex-
aggerating its meaning, he had busied himself in persuading
the Catholic gentry to whom he had access to support James’s
title, and to turn a deaf ear to the machinations of the Jesuits ;
and he flattered himself that it was owing to his influence that
’ Strictly, not the religion of his father, which was the Anglo-Catholic-
i jin ot the reign of Henry VIIL, with perhaps a feeling th.at the. Catholicism
of Rome was the only complete form in which it was possible to embrace
the system. Lord Henry accepted the papal authority, though he attended
Protestant service.
The most important part of the confessions upon which this narrative
rests is published in Tierney’s Dodd iv. App. i. Some further particulars
will he found in Beaumont’s despatches.
r6o3 JVATSON^S PLOT, tog
all over England the Catholics were among the foremost who
supported the proclamation which announced the accession of
the new King.
After James had been proclaimed, Watson set himself to
counteract the intrigues which he believed the Jesuits to be
Watson’s Carrying on in favour of Spanish interests. The re-
solution of James to exact the fines was regarded by
of the fines, almost in the light of a personal insult. He
would become the laughing-stock of the Jesuits, for having
believed in the lying promises of a Protestant King. His first
thought was to gain favour with the Government by betraying
his rivals. But he knew nothing of importance ; and, at all
costs, he must do something, it mattered not what, by which
he might outshine the hated Jesuits. Shortly after he had
formed this determination he fell in with another priest named
Clarke. They discussed their grievances together with Sir
Griffin Markham, a Catholic gentleman, who was, for private
reasons, discontented with the Government, and with George
Brooke, a brother of Lord Cobham, who, although he was a
Protestant, had been disappointed by not obtaining the Master-
ship of the hospital of St Cross, near Winchester.
While they were talking these matters over, Markham made
the unlucky suggestion that the best way to obtain redress
Markham would be to follow the example which had so often
Sureof the Scottish nation. The Scots, as was
K-ing. well known, were accustomed, whenever they were
unable to obtain what they wished for, to take possession of
their King, and to keep him in custody till he consented to
give way. It was immediately resolved to adopt this prepos-
terous scheme. But before such a plan could be carried into
execution it was necessary to devise some means of rendering
it palatable to those whom they sought to enlist in their cause.
They knew that all Catholics who would be willing to take
arms against the King were already under the influence of the
Plans of the J^suits. To obviate this difficulty it was gravely
tonspirators. proposed that a number of persons should be col-
lected together under pretence of presenting a petition for tole-
ration to the King : and it was hoped that, when the time
ZIO
CH. HI.
yAMES /. AND THE CATHOLICS.
came for action, the petitioners would be ready to do as they
were bidden by the leaders of the movement. All who signed
the petition were to swear that they would endeavour by all
* lawful means to restore the Catholic faith again in ’ the
‘country, to conserve the life of’ their ‘ Sovereign in safety,
and to preserve the laws of’ the ‘land from all enemies.’ They
were to be bound to divulge nothing without the consent of
twelve of the principal promoters of the petition. Watson
afterwards acknowledged that ' this clause was a mere trick to
bind them to complete secrecy. As the numl)er of the chief
promoters was less than twelve, such a consent could never be
obtained.
With these views, Watson and his confederates dispersed
themselves over the country. They expected to be able to
collect a large body of men in London on June 24. These
men would, as they hoped, be ready to follow their lead in
everything. In order to bring together the requisite numbers,
Watson was by no means sparing of falsehoods. I'he timid
were encouraged by hearing of the thousands who w’-ere en-
gaged in the affliir, or of the noblemen who had already given
in their adhesion. Ail, or almost all, were left under the im-
pression that they were required to join only in the peaceful
presentation of a petition.
In the early part of June, Watson, who had now returned
to London, proceeded to mature his plans with the help of
Lord Grey Markham and of a young man named Copley who
SS to” lately been admitted to his confidence. Strange
to say, Brooke introduced to the plotters Lord Grey
of Wilton, a hot-headed young man of high character and
decided Puritanism. Grey was at that time sadly discontented
at the extension of James’s favour to Southampton and to
others of the followers of Essex, who were his bitter enemies ;
and he was induced without difficulty to join in the plan for
presenting a petition to James for a general toleration. Though
no absolute certainty is attainable, it is probable that he was
drawn on to assent, at least for a time, to the scheme for fonhng
the petition on James The relation between him and the
other conspirators was, however, not one to endure much
WATSON’S PLOT '
III
straining. Before long Watson was considering how he might
get credit for himself and the Catholics, by employing Grey to
seize the King, and then rescuing James from his grasp when
the struggle came. Grey, on the other hand, shrank from the
co-operation of his new allies, and under pretext of postponing
the scheme to a more convenient opportunity, drew back from
all further connection with it
As the time for executing the scheme approached, Brooke
seems to have drawn off. The plan of the confederates, in-
deed, was wild enough to deter any sober man from joining it
They deter- They intended to seize the King at Greenwich, on
^Ji^Vsethe June 24. As soon as this had been effected, they
king. were to put on the coats of the King’s guards and
to carry him to the Tower, as though he were going there
voluntarily. When they arrived at the gate they were to tell
the Lieutenant that the King was flying for refuge from traitors
They took it for granted that James would be too terrified to
say what the real state of the case was, and they do not seem
to have imagined that the mistake could be detected in any
other way. Once within the Tow'er, the whole kingdom would
be at their feet. They would compel the King to put into
their hands the forts of Berwick, Plymouth, and Portsmouth,
the castles of Dover and Arundel, and any other places which
they might think fit to ask for. He was to give hostages for
the free use of their religion, and to consent that Catholics
should have equal place, office, and estimation with Protestants
in council, at court, and in the country, and that the penal
laws should at once be abrogated.^
Watson, intoxicated with the success which his fancy pic-
tured to him, began to talk wildly about ‘ displacing Pri^7
Councillors, cutting off of heads, and getting the broad seal
into his hands.’ ^ He had already distributed the chief offices
of state : ^ Copley was to be Secretary ; Markham to be Earl
Marshal ; he himself was to be Lord Keeper. Even Copley
’ Articles for Grey’s defence, Nov. (15^), S. P. Dorn. iv. 81 ; Ed-
wards’ Life of Palegh, i. 345, 350 ; Tierney’s Dodd. iv. App. p. i.
'■* Copley’s Confession, July 14, Tierney’s Dodd, iv. App. p. x.
* Watson’s Confession, Aug. 10, Tierney’s Dodd. App. p. iv.
1X2
yjMES L AND THE CATHOLICS. CH. m.
was unable to swallow this, and suggested that, at least under
present circumstances, it would cause discontent if a priest
were again seen presiding in Chancery, though he hoped that
the times would soon return when such things might again be
possible. Watson refused to listen to such an objection.
If, however, contrary to expectation, the King declined to
follow their directions, he was to be treated with consideration,
but to be kept a close prisoner till he granted their demands.^
Many noblemen would be confined with him, and from time
to time ' some buzzes of fear ’ might ‘ be put into their heads,’
in order that they might, in their turn, terrify the King.
Watson proposed that, if James still held out, he should be
deposed. Copley refused to assent to such a measure, and
this point seems never to have been settled amongst them,
Copley Whilst this question was under discussion, it occurred
wiwmthe Copley that it would be well to make use of the
time during which the King would be in the Tower,
to attempt his conversion. No doubt he would readily catch at
an opportunity of displaying his theological knowledge in a public
disputation. If, as was more than probable, he still declared
himself unconvinced, his mind might be influenced by a trial
of the respective powers of exorcism possessed by a Catholic
priest and a Protestant minister, which was sure to end in the
triumph of the former. W’^atson objected that James would
certainly say that the person exorcised had only been labouring
under a fictitious malady ; he might also charge the successful
exorcist with witchcraft, or even refuse to be present at all at
such a trial, Copley answered that in that case they might
fall back upon the old method of deciding quarrels, by trial by
battle. Watson doubted whether it would be possible to find
a champion. Upon this, Copley offered himself to undertake
the combat, ‘ provided that it might be without scandal to the
Catholic Church, upon the canon of the Council of Trent to
the contrary of all duellums ; and I choose the w^eapons, not
doubting but my wife, who by the sacrament of matrimony
is individually interested in my person, would (for being a
Copley’s Answsr Aug, i, Tierney’s DM App, p. vi5* note 2 .
r6o3
WATSON^S PLOT.
m
Catholic, and the cause so much God’s) quit at my request
such her interest for a time, and also much less doubting but
to find amongst the host of heaven that blessed Queen, his
Majesty’s mother, at my elbow in that hour ! ”
One evening, Markham came in with the news that the
King intended to leave Greenwich on the 24th. They would
Change of therefore be compelled to alter their plans. He was
plans. i-Q giggp Hanw'orth on his way to Windsor. Mark-
ham said that a body of men might easily seize him there, if
they took ‘every man his pistol, or case of pistols.’ Copley
asked where either the men or the pistols were to be found.
Markham was struck dumb by the inquiry, muttered something
about another plan, and left the room.
On the 24th, Watson’s lodgings were crowded with Catho-
lics who had come up from the country to join in presenting
T .. the petition. But their numbers were far too small
June ‘24* ^
The plot to carry out the design which the heads of the con-
spiracy really had in view, and the day passed over
without a finger being stirred against the King. The next day
Markham brought them the unwelcome news that Grey had
refused to have any further communication with them. Many
hours had not passed before they heard rumours that the
Government was aware of their plot. The whole party fled
for their lives, to be taken one by one in the course of the fol-
lowing weeks. So utterly futile did the whole matter appear
even to those who were engaged in it, that Copley and Mark-
ham decided upon putting themselves at the disposal of the
Jesuits, thinking that they alone had heads clear enough to
conceive any effectual scheme for the liberation of the oppressed
Catholics.
The Jesuits knew more about the plot than the conspirators
w^ere aware of. Some time before the appointed day arrived,
, , . Copley, uncertain whether the scheme were justifi-
Information x y? _ t, i i •
conveyed to able or not, had written to Blackwell, the Archpriest,
.the jesuitb entrusted by the Pope with the charge
of the secular clergy in England, to ask his advice, and he had
also acquainted his siiter, Mrs. Gage, with the fact that he had
YOU I. I
CH. m.
1 14 yAAf£S I. AND THE CATHOLICS.
written such a letter.^ Both Blackwell and Mrs. Gage were
on the best terms with the Jesuits, and the information was
by one or other of them conveyed to Father Gerard.
Gerard passed the knowledge on to Garnet as his superior.
Between Gerard and Garnet a closer tie existed than that
Garnet and which Ordinarily bound a Jcsuit to his superior. When
Gerard. Gerard, who was one of the most persuasive of the
Catholic missionaries, was thrown into the Tower, he had borne
sore tortures rather than re\eal the hiding-place
of Garnet. When Gerard sucv'ecdcd in making his
perilous escape by swinging himself along a rope suspended
over the Tower ditch, it w-as with Garnet that he first sought
refuge,^ The two friends were of one mind in wishing to dis-
countenance the plot. Something, no doubt, of their resolution
is due to the hostility of their order to the priests by whom it
was conducted j but it must be remembered that at present the
whole weight of the Society and of Pope Clement himself w.as
thrown into the scale of submission to the King. They still
hoped much from his readiness to listen to reason, and they
were by no means ready to abandon their expectation of tolera
tion because he had exacted the fines on one occasion.® Gerard,
Tune, 1603. 3 .t first, contented himself with warning the con-
Gerard spirators to desist : but when he found his advice
ready to \ , , t 1
betray the disregarded, he sent a message to the C^overnment
informing them of the whole conspiracy. 'I'hc mes-
sage, it was true, was never delivered, but this was merely
because a similar communication had already been made * by
a priest named Barneby, who was a prisoner in the Clink, and
who, by Blackwell's diicctions, had given information to the
Bishop of London, in order that he might pass it on to Cecil®
The discovery of the plot by the Catholics themselves had
all the consequences which the Jesuits had anticipated On
’ Copley’s Declaration, Tierney’s Dodd, iv., App. p. iv.
* Morris, Lifiof Gerard^ 298.
* This may be positively as‘?ertecl to have been the case, on the evidence
af the letters amongst the Roman 7 'ranscnpts^ R. 0 .
** Gerard’s Narrative in Morris’s Condition of Catholics^ 74.
» Degli Kffetti to Del Bufalo, July
i6o3 the recusancy FINES REMITTED. 115
June 17 James confidentially acquainted Rosny with hia
purpose of remitting the Recusancy fines. ^ Yet it was not
without hesitation that James carried out his intention. Some-
times his mind dwelt more on the Catholics who had formed
June 17. the plot than on those who had betrayed it He
poSfto be very glad, he informed Rosny, to be on
SlVancy terms with the Pope, if only he would
fines, consent to his remaining the head of his own Church,
but he&r*"^ He told Beaumont, the resident French Ambassador,
t.ites. Y\is kindness to the Catholics, they
had sought his life. Beaumont replied that the conspirators
were exceptions amongst a generally loyal body, and that if
liberty of conscience were not allowed, he would hardly be
able to put a stop to similar plots. ^ James was convinced by
the Frenchman’s reasoning.
On July 17 a deputation of the leading Catholics was heard
by the Council in the presence of the King. Their spokesman
July 17. Sir Thomas Tresham, a man familiar with im*
A Catholic prisonment and fine. “ I have now,” he had written
deputation. , . . , ^
a short time previously to Lord Henry Howard,
“ completed my triple apprenticeship of one and twenty years
in direct adversity, and I shall be content to serve a like long
apprenticeship to prevent the foregoing of my beloved, beau-
tiful, and graceful Rachel ; for it seems to me but a few days
for the love I have to her.” ^ James listened to the pleading
of the noble-hearted man, and yielded. He assured the depu-
james tation that the fines should be remitted as long as
tfie they behaved as loyal subjects. If, he added, the
Catholics would also obey the law, the highest places
in the State should be open to them. In other words, if they
would be as base as How^ard, they should sit at the Council-
table, and take part in the government of England.'* Howard,
in James’s language, was the tame duck by whose help he
^ Econ. Roy, iv, 370.
2 Beaumont to Henry IV. July EinY's MSS. 123, fob 327 b
® Jardine’s Gunpimder Plot, 10.
^ Degli Fffetti to D.d Bufalo, July Roman Transcripts, A*, < 7 .
CH. Hi,
n6 yAMSS /. AA^D THE CATHOLICS,
hoped to catch many wild ones. It was evident that he had not
faced the problem fairly. There were thousands of Catholics
in England who resembled Tresham more than Howard, and
no remission of fines was likely to be lasting if it was based on
the misapprehension that toleration was only a step to a hypo-
critical conversion.
For the present, however, the Catholics enjoyed unaccus-
tomed peace. The 20/. fines ceased at once. With the lands of
which two thirds had been taken there was more difficulty, as
there were lessees who had a claim on the property. Probably,
however, the lessees were often friends of the owners, and in
such cases there would be little difficulty in coming to an
arrangement. At all events the income accruing to the Crown
from this source was enormously diminished.^
The Catholic problem pursued James even in his own family
circle. When, on July 25, the ceremony of the coronation took
July 25. Westminster, Anne of Denmark consented
Coronation. receive the crown at the hands of a Protestant
The Queen Archbishop j blit whcii the time arrived for the re-
Sceivethe ception of the Communion she remained immove-
communion. OH her seat, leaving the King to partake alone.
Anne, however, was not of the stuff of which martyrs are made.
Enthusiastic Catholics complained that she had no heart for
anything but festivities and amusements, and during the rest
of her life she attended the services of the church sufficiently
to enable the Government to allege that she was merely an
enemy of Puritanical strictness.*^
For the present James was the more inclined to treat the
Catholics well, because he had learnt that another plot was
CoHiam’s existence in which Protestants were concerned,
plot. Brooke's participation in Watson’s conspiracy had
been discovered by means of the examination of the prisoners,
and as soon as Cecil had learned that, he naturally suspected
that Brooke’s brother, Cobham, had had a hand in the mischief.
In order to obtain information against Cobham, Raleigh was
summoned before the Couficil at Windsor. There is no reason
' of the Exchequer,
* Degli EfTetti to Del Bufalo, Aug. Roman 7'ranscrifiSy R, 0,
i6o3 COBHAM and RALEIGK 117
to suppose that Cobham had more than a general knowledge
of Watson’s doings, and of these Raleigh was unable to speak.
Shortly after this examination, however, Raleigh wrote to Cecil,
informing him that he believed that Cobham had dealings with
Aremberg, the ambassador who had lately come over from the
Archduke, and that he carried on his communications by means
^ ^ of an Antwerp merchant, named Renzi, w'ho was
Raleigh residing in London. In consequence either of this
arrested. letter or of Brookc’s confession, Cobham was arrested.
On July 17,^ the very day on which the Catholic deputation
was before the Council, Raleigh himself became suspected
and was committed to the Tower.
The truth of the story, which came out by degrees, will,
in all probability, never be completely known. It would be
labour in vain to build upon Cobham’s evidence. He had no
sooner stated a fact than he denied it The only point which
he succeeded in establishing was the undoubted fact that he
was himself a most impudent liar. On the other hand, it is
impossible to place implicit confidence in Raleigh’s story, for
though his veracity is unimpeachable by the evidence of such
a man as Cobham, it cannot be denied that he made statements
which he must have known at the time to be false. Whatever
may be the truth on this difficult subject, there is no reason to
doubt that Cecil at least acted in perfect good faith.^ There
was enough evidence to make Raleigh’s innocence doubtful,
and under such circumstances, according to the ideas of those
times, the right course to take was to send the accused before
a jury. Cecil’s whole conduct during this affair w^as that of a
man who looked upon Raleigh, indeed, with no friendly eye,
and who believed that he was probably guilty, but who was
desirous that he should have every chance of proving his
innocence.^
* Extiact from the journal of Cecil’s secretary, Add. MSS, 6177.
2 Beaumont’s opinion that he acted through passion is often quoted
against him, but the French ambassador had had too many diplomatic
conilicts with Cecil to judge him fairly.
^ Mr. Tytler, in his Life of Kaleis^h (Appendix F), endeavoured to prove
that the whole conspiracy was a trick got up by Cecil He first quoted
nS JAMES L AND THE CATHOLICS. cu.m.
The evidence upon which the Privy Council acted was
obtained from various sources. It appeared that there was
a general impression among the participators in
Watson’s plot, which they had derived from Brooke’s
information, that both Cobham and Raleigh were
engaged in intrigues for the purpose of dethroning the King,
apparently with the object of placing Arabella Stuart upon the
throne. It was also said that Cobham had talked of killing
‘ the King and his cubs.’ This latter statement was afterwards
denied* by Brooke on the scaffold. He had, however, un-
doubtedly mentioned it to Watson, The discrepancy may
either be explained by supposing that he did so with the view
of driving Watson more deeply into the plot, or, as is more
the long letter of I>ord Henry Howard, printed in Raleigh's Works fviii.
756), as evidence that about 1602 Howard wrote to Cecil a letter contain-
nig ‘ an outline of the plan afterwards put in execution, for the destruction
of Cobham and Raleigh, by entrapping them in a charge of treason.’ Mr.
Tytlcr acknowledged that it was not certain that it was written to Cecil at
all. But even supposing that it w'as, wdiich is perhaps the most pro-
bable explanation, it is unfair to infer that Cecil partook in Howard’s
methods of attacking their common rivals. It is still more to the pur-
pose to show that the letter in question contains no scheme such as w’as
discovered in it by Mr. Tytler. It is plain, upon reading the complete
jtassages from which he has made extracts, that Howard did not propose
to entrap Raleigh and Cobham in a charge of treason, but to lead them to
take part in clifficiilt Imsiness, wdiere they would be sure to make mistakes
which might aiibrd an opportunity of pointing out their defects to the
Queen. This is miserable enough, but it is not so bad as the other recom-
mendation would have been, nor is there any warrant for supposing that
even this met with Cecil’s approbation.
Mr. Tytler’s second proof was founded on a letter of Brooke’s, written
on November 18, 1603, in which he says the following words t “ But above
all give me leave to conjure your Lordship to deal directly with me, what
I am to expect after so many promises received, and so much conformity
and accepted service performed on my part to you.” From this he inferred
that Cecil had used Brooke to act as a spy, and had al>andoncd him. Is
it likely that if this had been the case Brooke would not have used stnmger
expressions, or that Cecil would have dared to send him to the block,
knowing that he had it in his power to expose the infamy of .such conduct ?
Brooke may very well have rendered services in past days to Cecil and
received promises of favour in i
COEHAM AND RALEIGH,
r6c3
119
likely, that he denied the story on the scaffold, in hopes oi
benefiting his brother. Whatever this conspiracy may have
been, the priests knew nothing of its particulars. Brooke,
Cobham howcver, distinctly stated that his brother had, before
obtains the Arembcrg’s arrival, entered into communication with
monerfrom him, and had offered to help in procuring the peace
Areniberg master had so much at heart, if he would
place at his disposal a sum of five or six hundred thousand
crowns, which he would employ in gaining the services of
different discontented persons.^ A portion of this money was
certainly offered to Raleigh, though, according to his own
account, which there is no reason to doubt, he immediately
refused it,^ Aremberg promised to send the money to
Cobham, and requested to know how it was to be transmitted,
and in what manner it was to be distributed.
On Aremberg’s arrival, Cobham sought him out. Whether
his designs had been already formed, or whether they grew in
, , his mind after conversation with the ambassador, is
He declares -ah i i • •
for Arabella uncertain. At all events, he seems at this time to
‘n'vhTto the have entertained the idea of assisting Arabella to the
throne. crowH, and of course also of seeing Cecil and the
Howards beneath bis feet. He commissioned his brother to
engage her to write to the Infanta, the Duke of Savoy,, and the
King of Spain, in hopes of inducing them to support her title.^
In spite of Brooke’s refusal, Cobham continued to negotiate
with Arembeig, either with a view of inducing him tocountenance
this scheme, or in hopes of obtaining money which might be
employed to distribute amongst persons who would use their
influence in procuring the peace of wdiich the King of Spain
was so desirous. He even offered to undertake a mission to
Spain in order to induce the King to listen to his proposals.
As these projects were gradually disclosed, the suspicions
against Raleigh became stronger in the minds of the mem-
bers of the Government. It was known that he had too good
reasons to be discontented. He had been persuaded or
’ Brooke's Confession, July 19, S. P, Dorn. ii. 64,
^ Raleigh's Examination, Aug. 13, Jarcline’s Crwi, T?ials, i. 425.
® Brooke’s Confession, July 19, S, P. Dom, ii. 64.
120
CH. HI.
JAMES L AND THE CATHOLICS,
compelled to resign his Wardenship of the Stannaries, and
when the monopolies were suspended for examination, his
lucrative patent of wine licences ^ was amongst those which
Raleigh were called in question. Durham House, which he
suspected. foi* twenty years, had been claimed by the
Bishop of Durham, and the lawyers who were consulted having
given an opinion in the Bishop’s favour, Raleigh had been
ordered with unseemly haste to leave the house. ^ Altogether,
he had lost a considerable part of his income, and such a loss
was certainly not likely to put a man in good humour with the
Government which had treated him so harshly. At the same
time, it was well known that he was Cobham’s greatest if not
his only friend, and that they had for some years been
engaged together in political schemes. ^Va3 it probable, it
might be argued, that a man like Cobhain, who had informed
his brother of part, at least, of his design, should have kept
his constant companion in ignorance? This reasoning had
induced Cecil to send for Raleigh at Windsor. It must have
received additional weight as soon as the Government heard
that, after Raleigh had left them, he wrote a letter to Cobham,.
assuring him that he had ‘cleared him of all,’ and afx'ompanied
it with a message that one witness (by which he probably meant
Brooke) could not condemn him.^ It was undoubtedly sus-
picious. It was just such a message as would have been sent
by one accomplice to another, in order to procure his silence.
Cobham too, when the letter was shown him which Raleigh
had written denouncing his intercourse witli Aremberg, broke
out into a passion, and declared that all that he had clone had
been done at Raleigh’s instigation. His evidence, however,
was invalidated by the fact that he afterwards retracted it on
* The wine licences were finally declared to l>e no monopoly ; hut,
Raleigh having lost them by his attainder, they were granted to the Lord
Admiral, the Earl of Nottingham.
Egeiton Papers, Camd Soc. 376.
® Raleigh on his trial denied sending this message. But Keymis, who
was the messenger, declared that he had carried it, thus corroborating
Col)hani’s evidence. A man who ‘ endeavoured .still to transfer all from
his master to himself’ was not likely to have invented this. Waad to
Cecil, Sept. 2, 1603, S, F. Dom. iii. $z.
i6o3 RALEIGWS letter TO HIS WIFE.
121
his way from his examination, it was said, as soon as he reached
the stair-foot.
Raleigh’s health suffered extremely during his imprison-
ment \ in all probability from mental rather than from physical
July. causes. In less than a fortnight after his arrest, his
Sp^e'd spirits had become so depressed that he allowed
suicide. hiiiiself to make an ineffectual attempt at self-*
destruction.
The letter in which he took, as he supposed, a farewell of
his wife, is one of the most touching compositions in the
English language. He could not bear, he said, to leave a
dishonoured name to her and to his son, and he had determined
not to live, in order to spare them the shame. He begged
her not to remain a widow ; let her marry, not to please herself,
but in order to obtain protection for her child. For himself he
was ‘left of all men,’ though he had ‘done good to many.’ All
his good actions were forgotten, all his errors were brought up
against him with the very w'orst interpretation. All his ‘ services,
hazards, and expenses for his country,’ his ‘plantings, dis-
coveries, fights, counsels, and whatsoever else ’ he had done,
were covered over by the malice of his enemies. He was now
called ‘traitor by the word of an unworthy man,’ who had ‘pro
claimed him ’ to be a partaker of his vain imaginations, not-
withstanding the whole course of his life had ‘ approved the
contrary.’ “ Woe, woe, woe,” he cries, “ be unto him by whose
falsehood we are lost 1 He hath separated us asunder ; he
hath slain my honour, my fortune ; he hath robbed thee of thy
husband, thy child of his father, and me of you both, 0 God !
thou dost know my wrongs ; know then thou, my wife and
child ; know then thou, my Lord and King, that I ever thought
them too honest to betray, and too good to conspire against.
But, my wife, forgive thou all, as I do ; live humble, for thou
hast but a time also. God forgive my Lord Harry, ^ for he was
my heavy enemy. And. for my Lord Cecil, I thought he would
never forsake me in extremity \ I would not have done it him,
God knows.” He then went on to assure his wife that he did
not die in despair of God’s mercies. God had not left him,
^ Certainly, I think, Howard. Mr. Brewer thinks Cobham.
in JAMES L AND THE CATHOLICS. CH. in.
nor Satan tempted him. He knew it was forbidden to men to
destroy themselves, but he trusted that that had reference only
to those who made away wdth themselves in despair.
“'The mercy of God,” he continues, “is immeasurable, the
cogitations of men comprehend it not. In the Lord I have
ever trusted, and I know that my Redeemer liveth ; far is it
‘ from me to be tempted with Satan ; I am only tempted with
sorrow, whose sharp teeth devour my heart. 0 God, thou art
goodness itself ! thou canst not be but good to me. 0 God,
thou art mercy itself 1 thou canst not be but merciful to me.”
He then speaks of the property he has to leave and of his
debts. But his mind cannot dwell on such matters. “Oh
intolerable infamy ! ” he again cries out, “ 0 God, I cannot
resist these thoughts ; I cannot live to think how I am derided,
to think of the expectation of my enemies, the scorns I shall
receive, the cruel words of the lawyers, the infamous taunts
and despites, to be made a wonder and a spectacle ! 0 death !
hasten thee unto me, that thou mayest dc.stroy the memory of
these and lay me up in dark forgetfulness. The Lord knows
my sorrow to part from thee and my poor child ; but part I
must, by enemies and injuries, part with shame and triumph of
my detractors ; and therefore be contented with this work of
God, and forget me in all things but thine own honour, and
the love of mine. I bless my poor child, and let him know
his father was no traitor. Be bold of my innocence, for God,
to whom I offer life and soul, knows it. And whosoever thou
choose again after me, let him be but thy politic husband j
but let my son be thy beloved, for he is part of me, and I live
in him, and the difference is but in the number, and not in the
kind. And the Lord for ever keep thee and them, and give
thee comfort in both worlds ! ” ^
‘ Raleigh to his wife. Printed by Mr. Brewer in his appendix to
Goodman’s Couti of King Janus I. ii. 93. For doubts on the authen.icity
of this letter sec Mr. Stebbing’s Sir Wa'fer 197. it may, how-
ever, be allowed to stand, with a caution. The allusion to Cecil’s
Mastership of the Court of Wards, ‘And for my Lord Cecil, I thought he
would never forsake me in extremity, . . . But do not thou know it, for
he must be master of my child,’ for instance, shows too light a touch for
the concocter of a ‘ literary exercise,*
i6o3
RALElGirS TRIAL.
123
Fortunately for himself, Raleigh’s attempt to fly from the
evils before him failed. Of his answers to subsequent questions
we have only one or two fragments, in one of which he ac-
knowledged that Cobham had offered him 10,000 crowns with
a view to engage his services in furthering the peace, but added
that he had passed the proposal by with a joke, thinking that
It had not been seriously made*
On November 12 he was brought out of the Tower to be
conducted to Winchester, where the trial was to take
Nov. 12. , '
Taken to place, in order that the persons who attended the
Winchester. might not be exposed to the plague, which was
raging in London.
He passed through the streets amidst the execrations of the
London mob. So great w'as their fury that Waad, the Lieu-
tenant of the Tower, who had charge of him, hardly expected
^ that he would escape out of the city alive. On the
' 1 7th he was placed at the bar, upon a charge of high
treason, before Commissioners specially appointed, amongst
whom Cecil and Chief Justice Popham took the most promi-
nent parts. ^
The prosecution was conducted by the Attorney- General,
Sir Edward Coke, with a harsh rudeness which was remarkable
Th.Trai which in the course of the pro-
ceedings called down upon him, much to his own
astonishment, the remonstrances of Cecil.
A century later Raleigh might well have smiled at the
evidence which w^as brought against him. As it was,
of the law of he could fiEve had but little hope under wLat, in a
England. ^hich he had wTitten to some of the Lords of the
Council,^ he had well termed ‘ the cruelty of the law of England’
’ A story occurs in the Observations on SandersosHs Hisioiy^ which had
been frequently quoted, to the e^ect that the jury, not being sufficiently
subservient, were changed overnight. To this Sanderson replied in an
Aiisiver to a Scurrilous Pamphlet, p. 8, that * it is a scandal upon the
proceedings to say that the intended jury was changed overnight, for these
were of Middlesex, and ordered long before to attend at Winchester.’
2 Letter to Nottingham and other Lords in Cayley’s Life of Raleigh^
124
yAMES L AND THE CATHOLICS. cu.m.
In our own days everyone who takes part in a criminal trial is
thoroughly impressed with the truth of the maxim, that a
prisoner is to be considered innocent until he is proved to be
guilty. Even the counsel for the prosecution frequently seekfj
to gain a reputation for fairness by reminding the jury of the
existence of such a maxim. The judge repeats it, if necessary,
when he sums up the evidence. The able counsel whom the
prisoner is at liberty to select at his own discretion, takes good
care that it is not forgotten, while every man in the jury-box
has been brought up in a political atmosphere where it is counted
as an axiom.
How different was the course of a criminal trial in the first
years of the seventeenth century 1 It was not that either the
judges or the juries of that age were inclined to barter their
consciences for bribes, or servilely to commit injustice with
their eyes open, from a fear of conseciuences to themselves.
But they had been trained under a system which completely
ignored the principle with w'hich we are so fomiliar. Tacitly,
at least, the prisoner at the bar was held to be guilty until he
could prove his innocence. No counsel was allowed to speak
on his behalf, and unless his unpracti.scd mind could, at a
moment’s notice, refute charges which had been .skilfully pre-
pared at leisure, the unavoidable verdict w\is sure to be given
against him. Such a course of proceeding was bad enough in
ordinary trials ; but when political (|uestions were involved the
case was far worse. In our own times the diffu'ulty is to pro-
cure a verdict of guilty as long as there is the slightest flaw in
the evidence against a prisoner, ^^’hen Raleigh appeared at
the bar, the difficulty was to procure an ac^iuittal unless the
defence amounted to positive proof of innocence, d'he causes
Change in which led to tliis State of things are not difficult to
takeTJ comprehend. We live in days when, happily, it has
treawu. becomc almost impossible to conceive of a treason
which should really shake the country. Conscciuently, a
prisoner accused of this crime is in our eyes, at the most, a
misguided person who has been guilty of exciting a riot of um
usual proportions. We cannot work our minds up to be afraid
of him, and fear, far more than ignorance, is the parent of
RALEIGWS TRIAL.
125
1603
cruelty. The experience of the sixteenth century had told the
other way. For more than a hundred years the Crown had
been the sheet-anchor of the constitution. Treason, conse-
quently, was not regarded simply as an act directed against the
Government It w'as rather an act of consummate wickedness
which aimed at the ruin of the nation. A man who was even
suspected of a crime the object of which was to bring the
armies of Spain upon the free soil of England could never meet
with sympathy, and could hardly hope for the barest justice.
The feelings of men were the more irresistible when the most
learned judge upon the bench knew little more of the laws of
evidence and the principles of jurisprudence than the meanest
peasant in the land.
As might be expected, the forms of procedure to w^hich the
prevalent feelings gave rise only served to aggravate the evil
The examination of the prisoners was conducted in
Systsm of , ,
criminal private. Such a systeui w^as admirably adapted for
procedure. pj-Q^^uring the conviction of a guilty person, because
he w'as not likely to persist in denying his crime whilst his
confederates might be telling their own story against him, each
in his own way. But it by no means afforded equal chances of
escape to the innocent, who had no opportunity of meeting his
accuser face to face, or of subjecting him to a cross-examination,
and who, if he were accused of a State crime, would find in the
examiners men who were by their very position incapable of
taking an impartial view of the affair. In point of fact, these
preliminary investigations formed the real trial. If the accused
could satisfy the Privy Council of his innocence, he wmuld at
once be set at liberty. If he failed in this, he would be brought
before a court from which there was scarcely a hope of escape.
Extracts from his own depositions and from those of others
would be read before him, supported by the arguments of the
first lawyers of the day, w'ho did not disdain to bring against
him the basest insinuations, wEich he had at the moment no
means of rebutting. The evil was still more increased by the
wmnt of any real responsibility in any of the parties concerned.
When the previous depositions formed almost, if not entirely,
the whole of the evidence, a jury would be likely to attach con-
126
y^AMES /. AND THE CATHOLICS. CH. iii.
siderable weight to the mere fact that the prisoner had been
committed for trial. They would naturally feel a diffidence in
setting their untried judgments against the conclusions which
had been formed by men Avho w^ere accustomed to conduct in>
vestigations of this kind, and who might be supposed, even if
the evidence appeared to be weak, to have kept back proofs
which for the good of the public service it was unadvisable to
publish. On the other hand, the Privy Councillors would view
the matter in a very different light They would see in their
inquiries nothing more than a preliminary investigation, and
would throw upon the jury the responsibility which, in theory,
they were bound to feel,^ Under these circumstances, trial by
jury ceased to be a safeguard against injustice. In a conjunc-
ture when the nation and its rulers are equally hurried away by
passion, or have become equally regardless of the rights of in-
dividuals, the system loses its efficacy for good.
With such prospects before him, Raleigh took his place at
the bar. 2 If the feeling of the time with respect to persons
The law of charged with political offences was likely to lead to
trea.son. injustice, the law of high treason, as it had been
handed down from older times, was such as to give full scope
for that injustice. In the case of ordinary crimes, it w^as neces-
sary to prove that the prisoner had actually taken part in the
criminal action of which he was accused. In cases of treason
it was sufficient if any one person had committed an overt act ;
all others to whom the treason had been confided, and who
had consented to the perpetration of the crime, although they
might have taken no part whatever in any treasonable action,
were held to be as much guilty as the man would have been
who actually led an army against the King.
From this state of the law arose the great difficulty which
must have been felt by every prisoner who had to defend hini-
^ “ Always,” wrote Cecil of Raleigh, “ he shall be left to the law, which
is the right all men are born to.”— Cecil toWinwood, Oct, 3, 1603, Winw.
ii. 8.
“ The account here given is ba-sed upon the report as given in Jardine*a
Crim, Trials j compared with Mr. Edwards’s collation in his Lifi af RakgK
L388.
i6o3
RALEIGH^S TRIAL.
127
self when charged with a treason in which he had not himself
taken an active share. If he had ever listened to the words of
a traitor, it would not be enough for him to prove that he had
not done anything which was treasonable. He could only-
hope for an acquittal if he could show that the state of his
mind at the time when he heard the treasonable proposal was
the opposite of that -which would certainly be ascribed to him
by everyone who took part in the trial. And even if by some
extraordinary chance he was able to show that he had only con-
cealed the treason without consenting to it, he was still liable
to the harsh penalties which the law inflicted upon misprision
of treason.
After some preliminary proceedings, the charges against the
prisoner were brought forward by Coke, with his usual violence,
Coke opens Msml carelessncss as to the value
the trial, evidence upon which he based his assertions.
He charged Raleigh with entering upon a treason which was
closely connected with that of the priests, although he was
unable to point out what that connection was. He had not
gone far before he lost his temper. Raleigh having calmly
asserted his innocence, and having offered to confess the
whole of the indictment if a single charge could be proved out of
the many that had been brought against him, he dared, in the
presence of the man whose lifelong antagonism to Spain was
notorious to every Englishman, to accuse him with being a
monster with an English face but a Spanish heart ; and with
having plotted with Cobham to bring about the substitution of
Arabella for the King by the help of a Spanish invasion. One
night, he said, shortly after Aremberg’s arrival, Raleigh was
supping with Cobham, and after supper Cobham went with
Renzi to visit the Ambassador, It was then arranged that
Cobham should go into Spain, and that he w'as to return by
way of Jersey, where he was to consult with Raleigh as to the
best means of making use of the money which he hoped to
procure from the King of Spain, The Attorney-General pro-^
ceeded to argue in favour of the probability of this story, from
Raleigh’s known intimacy with Cobham, from the letter which
he had written to say that he had cleared him in all of which
128
JAMES I, AND THE CATHOLICS. CH. iii.
he had been accused, as well as from the message which he
had sent to remind him that one witness could not condemn
him. This message would be sufficient to account for Cobham s
retractation of his accusation. Coke then proceeded to speak
of an attempt which Cobham had made to antedate a letter in
order to disprove the charge which had been brought against
him of purposing to go abroad with treasonable intentions, and
asserted, without a shadow of proof, that ‘this contrivance came
out of Raleigh’s devilish and machiavellian policy.’ Upon
Raleigh’s quietly denying the inferences, Coke broke out again :
“ All that he did,” he said, “was by thy in.stigation. thou viper;
for I thou thee, thou traitor ! I will prove thee the rankest
traitor in all England” Raleigh again protested his innocence,
and after the Chief Justice had interposed to restore the order
which had been broken by the Attorney-General, Coke pro-
ceeded to adduce his evidence. The first document read was
Cobham’s declaration of July 20, in which, after having been
shown Raleigh’s letter to Cecil in which he had suggested that
Cobham’s dealings with Aremberg should be looked into, he
had declared that he ‘had never entered into these courses
but by Raleigh’s instigation ; ’ and had added that Raleigh had
spoken to him of plots and invasions, though this charge was
somewhat invalidated by Cobham '3 refusal to give any particu-
lar account of the plots of which he had spoken.
To tliis evidence, such as it was, Raleigh immediately
replied. This, he said, addressing the jury, was absolutely
all the evidence that could be brougltt against him. He pro-
tested that he knew nothing either of the priests’ plot, or of
any design to set Arabella upon the throne. If he suspected
that there was anything passing between Aremberg and Cob-
ham, it was because he knew that they had had confidential
communication with one another in former times, and because
one day he saw him go towards Renxi’s lodging. He then
appealed to the jury to consider how unlikely it was that he
should plot with such a man as Cobham. “ I was not so
bare of sense,” he said, “ but I saw that if ever the State was
strong and able to defend itself, it was now. The kingdom of
Scotland united, whence we were wont to fear all our troubles ;
160.-5
RALEIGirS TRIAL.
129
Ireland quieted, where our forces were wont to be divided ,*
Denmark assured, whom before we were wont to have in
jealousy ; the Low Countries, our nearest neighbours, at peace
with us ; and instead of a Lady whom time had surprised we
had now an active King, a lawful successor to the crown, who
was able to attend to his own business. I was not such a mad-
man as to make myself in this time a Robin Hood, a Wat Tyler,
or a Jack Cade. I knew also the state of Spain well ; his
weakness and poorness and humbleness at this time. X knew
that he was discouraged and dishonoured. I knew that six
times we had repulsed his forces, thrice in Ireland, thrice at sea
— once upon our coast and twice upon his own. Thrice had 1
served against him myself at sea, wherein for my country’s sake I
had expended of my own property 4,000/. I knew that where
before-time he was wont to have forty great sails at the least in
his ports, now he hath not past six or seven ; and for sending
to his Indies he was driven to hire strange vessels— a thing
contrary to the institutions of his proud ancestors, who straitly
forbad, in case of any necessity, that the Kings of Spain should
make their case knowm to strangers. I knew that of five and
twenty millions he had from his Indies, he had scarce any left \
nay, I knew his poorness at this time to be such that the Jesuits,
his imps, were fain to beg at the church doors ; his pride so
abated, as notwithstanding his former high terms, he was glad
to congratulate the King, my master, on his accession, and
now cometh creeping unto him for peace.” Raleigh concluded
by asserting that it was improbable either that the King of
Spain should be ready to trust large ‘sums of money on
Cobham^s bare word, or that a man of Cobham’s wealth should
risk it by entering into treason. But, however that might be,
he protested that he was clear of all knowledge of any con-
spiracy against the King.
After some further argument on the value of Cobham’s
Question of prisoner appealed to the Court against
the necessity the course which was adopted by the prosecution, and
t4o demanded that at least two witnesses should be pro-
nesses. duccd in Open court. It was all in vain. The Chief
Justice laid down the law as it was then universally under-
von. I. K
130 JAMES I AND THE CATHOLICS. CH. iii.
stood in Westminster Hall.^ Two statutes^ of Edward VI.
had, indeed, expressly declared that no man could be convicted
of treason except by the evidence of two witnesses, who, if
living at the time of the arraignment, were to be produced in
court Raleigh urged that a later statute of Philip and Mary ^
held the same doctrine. Popham answered that he had omitted
the important words which limited its operation to certain
treasons specially mentioned in the Act. By another section
of the same statute it was ‘ enacted that all trials hereafter to
be . . . awarded ... for any treason shall be had and used
only according to the due order of the Common Laws of this
realm, and not otherwise.’ It is highly improbable that the
legislature intended that this section should be interpreted so
as to interfere with the wholesome practice of requiring two
witnesses in cases of treason. At a later period a different
interpretation was affixed to it by the common consent of all
lawyers, who have now, for nearly two centuries, unanimously
held that the statute of Edward VI. was not repealed by the
subsequent Act. But in the early part of the seventeenth
century all lawyers, with equal unanimity, held the contrary
opinion.* In 1556 the Judges had met to consult on the
meaning of the Act of Philip and Mary which had then
been recently passed, and had decided that it bound them
to foil back upon the old custom, by which they were to
be content with one accuser, who need not be produced in
court. This doctrine had been repeatedly put in practice, and
no remonstrance had proceeded from any quarter, excepting
from the unfortunate 'men who had suffered from its injustice.
This objection having been thus overruled, Coke proceeded
to bring forward what further evidence he had it in his power
Coke ro- producc. A letter of Cobham’s was read, in which
JwcAs he acknowledged that before Aremberg’s arrival he
had written to him for money, and had received a
promise of four or five hundred thousand crowns. As, however,
1 vSee ]Mr. Jardine’s remarks, Crim. Trials, i. 513, and Reeve’s iSfwA
0/ law, iv. 495-506.
=* I Ed. VI. caj). 12, and 6 Ed. VI. cap. n.
• I & 2 Philip and Mary, cap. 10.
1003 RALEIGITS TRIAL, 151
this appeared to be intended only to assist the progress of the
negotiations for peace, Coke was obliged to go farther in order
to prove that there had ever been any overt act of treason at
all. For Cobham, remembering' that the evidence which he
gave against Raleigh might possibly be turned against himself,
had, with the single exception of the general statement, which
w^as made in the heat of passion, that Raleigh had spoken to
him of ‘ plots and invasions,’ always asserted that his dealings
with Aremberg had reference solely to the negotiations. The
Attorney-General was therefore forced to content himself with
bringing forward Watson’s evidence, such as it was, to the effect
that he had heard from Brooke that his brother and Raleigh
were wholly of the Spanish faction.
The confession which Raleigh had made as to Cobham’s
offer of io,oco crowns ^ to himself was also rea*d, and Keymis’s
Raleigh's examination was produced, in which he spoke of a
ffs^Snnec- Private interview which had taken place between
£bhai?s Cobham and Raleigh at the time when the former was
proceedings, receiving letters from Aremberg. To this Raleigh
m^de no reply, but he stated that Cobham’s offer had been made
previously to Aremberg’s arrival in England He added that he
had refused to have anything to do with it. This had taken
place, he said, as he and Cobham were at dinner. Cobham
had also proposed to offer money to Cecil and to Mar, to
which he had replied that he had better ‘ make no such offer
to them, for, by God, they would hate him if he did offer it’
Raleigh concluded by again pressing to be allowed to be
].>rought face to face with his accuser.
He found an unexpected support in Cecil, who, with an
evident desire that Raleigh’s wish might be granted, pressed
Asks again the judgcs to declare how the law stood They all
fron^Twith ^it^swered that it could not be allowed. “There must
Cobham. not,” Said Popham, “ be such a gap opened for the
destruction of the King as would be if we should grant you
this ... You plead hard for yourself, but the laws plead as
hard for the King. . . . The accuser having first confessed
against himself voluntarily, and so charged another person, hs
* P. 123.
X 1
132
JAMES L AND THE CATHOLICS, CH. m.
may from favour or fear retract what formerly he hath said, and
the jury may by that means be inveigled.”
After some further evidence of no great value had been
produced, Keymis’s deposition was read, in which he confessed
Keymis’s Carried a letter and a message from
deiiKdby Raleigh to Cobhani when he was in the Tower, and
Raleigh. that he had told him that one witness could not
condemn a man. Upon hearing this deposition read, Raleigh
took the unfortunate step of boldly denying that he had ever
sent the message, or written the letter. Keymis was not the
man to have invented the story, and this unlucky falsehood of
Raleigh’s must have induced those who were present to give
less weight to his protestations than they would otherwise have
done.
Once more Raleigh besought the court to allow the produc-
tion of Cobham, and, in spite of Howard’s declaration that his
request could not be granted, Cecil once more supported him
by asking whether the proceedings might not be adjourned till
his Majesty’s pleasure could be known. The judges coldly
answered that it could not be done.
The evidence which still remained was most irrelevant. A
pilot, named Dyer, was brought into court, who swore that
when he was at Lisbon he had been told by a Portuguese that
the King would never be crowned, as Don Cobham and Don
Raleigh would cut his throat first.
According to our ideas the case had thoroughly broken
down. Not only had there been no evidence that Raleigh had
ever heard of Cobham’s purpose of employing the Spanish
money in support of Arabella’s claim, but there had been none
to show that Cobham himself had ever formed such a design.
It must not, however, be supposed that on the latter point the
Government were not in possession of more satisfactory evidence
than they were able to produce in court They had in their
hands a letter of Cobham to Arabella, in which he explained
that he had requested the ambassador’s good offices with the
King of Spain in support of her title ; and two letters of Arem-
berg to Cobham, in which he promised him 600,000 crowns,
and had engaged to lay before the King of Spain his proposal
RALRIGH^S TRIAL.
1603
133
that the peace negotiations should be retarded and the Spanish
fleet strengthened.^ Such evidence could not be produced
in court without compromising the ambassador, but it would
have its weight with those who were aware of its existence,
even though Raleigh was not showm to have been concerned
in the matter.
Raleigh then proceeded to address the jury, begging them
not to condemn him on such evidence as that which they had
just heard. Serjeant Phelips said that the question lay between
the veracity of Raleigh and Cobham. It was Raleigh’s business
to disprove the accusation, which he had failed to do. Raleigh
replied, truly enough, that Cobham had disproved his own
assertions by disavowing them.
Coke was proceeding to sum up the evidence when Raleigh
interrupted him, and asked that, as he was pleading for his life,
Raleigh
demands
the last
word.
he might be allow^ed to have the last word. The
Attorney-General was treating this as mere insolence,
when he was checked by Cecil Coke, unused to be
compelled to respect the feelings of a prisoner, ‘ sat down in a
’ The following extract from the despatch of the French ambassador
seems to prove the reality of Cobhara’s intrigue for setting up Arabella : —
“Or est-il qu’en icelle, ” i.e. his deposition, “ledit Cobham a reconnu
d’avoir ouvert son dessein au Comte d’Aremberg qui estoit de persuader
Madame Arbelle ainsy qu’il se public et appert par la lettre qu’il lui escrivit
laquelle ladite dame mit deslors entre les mains du Roi, qu’il a demande
audit Comte la somme de 600,000 escus pour en donner ure partie aux
malcontens de ce Royaume a fin de les esmouvoir a se rebeller et en en-
voyer un autre en Ecosse et Irlande, qu’il s’est offert d’escrire luim^me au
Roi d’Espagne a fin qu’il retardast la negotiation de la paix et renforcast son
arm^e de mer attendant que selon le conseil qu’il avoit pris il put feignant
d’aller a Spa conferer avec I’archiduc, et dela passer en Espagne pour
donner plus de seurete ce sa foi et de son credit, que sur toutes ces choses
ledit Comte I’avoit non seulement escoute mais confort^, discoiirant, et
s’enqukant avec lui des moyens de les faire reussir ; qu’il lui avoit coinme
donne parole de 600,000 escus, et ce par deux lettres lesquelles je scai
8tre [dans ?] les mains du Roi, et que pour le retardement de la negotiation
de la paix, et de I’armee de mer, il en donneroit avis au plustot en Es-
pagne.”— Beaumont to the King of France, 1603. Ring’s AISS,
124, foL 577 b.
»34
JAMES I, AND THE CATHOLICS, CH. iii.
chafe,’ and was only induced to proceed by the entreaties of
the Commissioners.
After going over the depositions which had been read, he
produced a letter which had been written only the day before
Cobham's Cobham to the Commissioners. “ I have thought
thrcoL it fit,” the wretched man had written, “ in duty to my
missionets. Sovereign, and in discharge of my conscience, to set
this down to your Lordships, wherein I protest, upon my soul
to write nothing but what is true, for I am not ignorant of my
present condition, and now to dissemble with God is no time.
Sir Walter Raleigh, four nights before my coming from the
Tower, caused a letter inclosed in an apple to be thrown in at
my chamber window, desiring me to set down under my hand
and send him an acknowledgment that I had wronged him, and
renouncing what I had formerly accused him of. His first
letter I made no answer to. The next day he wrote me
another, praying me for God’s sake, if I pitied him, his wife
and children, that I would answer him in the points he set
down, informing me that the judges had met at Mr. Attorney’s
house, and putting me in hope that the proceedings against me
would be stayed. Upon this I wrote him a letter as he desired.
I since have thought he went about only to clear himself by
betraying me. Whereupon I have resolved to set down the
truth, and under my hand to retract what he cunningly got
from me, craving humble pardon of His Majesty and youi
Lordships for my double-dealing.
“At the first coming of Count Aremberg, Raleigh persuaded
me to deal with him, to get him a pension of 1,500/. from Spair
for intelligence, and he would always tell and advertise whal
was intended by England against Spain, the Low Countries, 01
the Indies, And coming from Greenwich one night he tolc
me what was agreed between the King and the Low Country-
men, that T should impart it to Count Aremberg. But for thii
motion of 1,500/. for intelligence I never dealt with Conn'
Aremberg. Now, as by this may appear to your Lordships
he hath been the original cause of my ruin, for but by hij
instigation I had never dealt with Count Aremberg. So als(
hath he been the only cause of my discontentment, I neve.
i6o3
RALEIGH^S TRIAL,
US
coming from the court, but still he filled me with new causes
of discontentment To conclude : in his last letter he advised
me that I should not be overtaken by confessing to any
preacher, as the Eail of Essex did, for the King would better
allow my constant denial than my accusing any other person,
which would but add matter to my former offence.”
Never did any man appear more bewildered than Kaleigh
when he heard this letter read. As soon as he could recover
Raleigh himself, he drew another letter from his pocket
produces the One which had been written in the
another
letter. Towcr by Cobham in reply to the urgent requests
which had been conveyed to his cell by means of the apple
thrown in at the window. In spite of Coke’s objections it was
read, at Cecil’s request, to the following effect : —
“ Now that the arraignment draws near, not knowing which
should be first, I or you, to clear my conscience, satisfy the
world with truth, and free myself from the cry of blood, I pro-
test upon my soul, and before God and His Angels, I never
had conference with you in any treason, nor was ever moved by
} oLi to the tilings I heretofore accused you of, and, for anything
I know", you are as innocent and as clear from any treasons
against the King as is any subject living. Therefore I w'ash my
hands, and pronounce with Daniel,* ’’Puna sum a sanguine
hujus^^ and God so deal with me, and have mercy upon my
soul as this is true.”
Raleigh w"as, however, brought to confess, that although it
was untrue that he had moved Cobham to procure him a pen-
sion, yet he could not deny that Cobham had meii-
le pension, j -j, confessioD, comiiig after his
denial made at Windsor, of having known anything of any plot
between Cobham and Aremberg, and his subsequent letter in
which he based his suspicions of Cobham simply upon his
knowledge of the interview with Renzi, was calculated to do
considerable damage to his cause. It was now evident that
Raleigh had, to say the least of it, not been telling the
Theveidict. The jury therefore, after a short con-
sultation of fifteen minutes, brought in a verdict of Guilty,
> The ‘ wise young judge' of the History of Susanna, 46.
136 yAJf^S I. AND THE CATHOLICS. CH. in.
Sentence of death was pronounced by Popham, who probably
thought he was standing on a ground of moral superiority in
inveighing against the atheistical and profane opinions which
he, in common with the rest of the world, believed Raleigh to
have entertained.
If we once admit the principle, upon which the jury tacitly
acted, that it was the prisoner’s business to prove himself to be
Oiiehtion pf whole trial resolves itself into a question
Kaieigh’s of character. Difficult as it is for us to acknowledge
innocence. ... . i i i • , -1,1 • ^ °
It, It is not improbable that, with the jury, Raleigh’s
character for veracity stood as low as Cobham’s. That this
was unjust to Raleigh we know full well. We have oppor-
tunities of knowing what he really was which very few of his
contemporaries enjoyed. The courtiers and statesmen with
whom he mingled knew only his worst side, and their evil
Report was exaggerated by rumour as it spread over the
With unerring judgment posterity has reversed the verdict
of the Winchester jury. That Raleigh wa.s innocent of planning
a Spanish invasion of England, needs no proof to those who
know how deeply hatred to Spain had sunk into his soul.
Pro^^ie however, there is something that needs c.Kplana-
cxgianation tioii. Raleigh was evidently not anxious to tell the
** whole truth. It is almost impossible to avoid the
conclusion that he knew more of Cobham’s plans than he chose
to avow. That he even heard of the scheme of placing Arabella
upon the throne, or of the Spanish invasion, may be doubted.
Brooke’s testimony of what his brother said is worthless ; and
Cobham, at least till after his own conviction,^ never directly
charged him with it. The most that he said was that Raleigh
had spoken to him of plots and invasions. On the other hand,
it was acknowledged by all that he had offered Raleigh bribes
to engage in forwarding the peace. The story which was told
by Raleigh of the manner in which he rejected the offei has the
appearance of truth. But is it certain that he was not acquainted
with more than he liked to say of Cobham’s further intercourse
with Aremberg ? Was it only on the two occasions on which
^ He did then. Cobham’s Confession, Nov, 22 , 31 /I Dmi, iv, gi.
U^AS RALEIGH INNOCENT?
137
1603
money was offered that Raleigh heard anything 6( the secret
with which the whole mind of his companion was filled ? It
was from Raleigh’s presence that Cobham went with Renzi to
Aremberg’s lodgings. On another occasion Raleigh was ‘ below
in the hall with Lord Cobham when Renzi delivered a letter
from Aremberg,’ and afterwards ‘ the Lord Cobham took Sir
Walter Raleigh up into his chamber with him in private.’ Is it
to be believed that they went there in order to converse on in-
different subjects ? Even the two apparently antagonistic letters
from Cobham which caused so much astonishment at the trial
are not so discrepant as they at first sight appear. In one
Cobham asserts that Raleigh had not instigated him to commit
treason. In the other he asserts that Raleigh had professed his
readiness to accept a pension from Aremberg, to be the price
of a betrayal of court secrets,. and that this suggestion had first
brought him into communication with the ambassador, and so
had indirectly caused his ruin. Both these statements may very
well have been true. Raleigh cannot have been in a gentle
humour on that night when he came home from Greenwich,
after seeing his rivals in the enjoyment of the sweets of power.
“ If it is to come to this,” we can fancy his saying to Cobham on
his return, “ one might as well be a pensioner of Sp.:tin at once.” *
He may even have thought that, as it was certain that there wa.s
to be a peace with Spain, he might at least make money by for-
warding that which he could not prevent. Of course thk is
mere guesswork, but it is a guess which would sufficiently account
for all that followed. He suddenly is called before the Countil,
and on the spur of the moment denies all knowledge of Cobham ’s
proceedings. Then, after he has gone away, he reflects that
sooner or later what had happened must come to light, and he
knows that he has had no real part in the treason. He writes the
tetter to Cecil, and Cobham is arrested and lodged in the Tower.
Upon this he remembers what the English law is, making a man
an offender for a thought, far more for a word, and instin(*tively
At his subsequent trial Cobham said that Raleigh ‘ once propouncie<I
to him a means for the Spaniards to invade England ’ by sending an army
to Milford Haven. -Carleton to Chamberlain, Nov, 27, C(W-/ a mi
of James L i. 19. This may have been true as speculative talk.
135 JAMES L AND THE CATHOLICS. CH. in.
turning to the one object of stopping Cobham’s mouth, he sends
Keymis to him to do what he can. Alas I he had forgotten that
Cobham might see the letter which had been written to Cecil.
Cobham does see it, bursts into a rage, and accuses Raleigh of
things of which he had never dreame^. There is nothing for
it now but to deny all, to state boldly that Keymis had lied as
well as Cobham, to hide as long as possible the second offer of
a pension, to declare that he had never committed a venial error,
lest those accursed lawyers should torture it into the foulest
crime.
If Raleigh’s trial is remarkable for the distinct enunciation
by the judges of the harsh principles which were then in repute
Impression lawyers, it is equally worthy of memory,
upon the as giving the first signal of the reaction which from
spectators. =■ o o . . _ . , , ,
that moment steadily set m in favour of the rights
of individuals against the State. Many a man, who came to
gloat over the conviction of a traitor, went away prepared to
sympathise with the prisoner who had defended himself so well
against the brutal invectives of Coke.
Two days before this trial, Brooke, hlarkham, Copley, and
another confederate named Brooksby, with the two priests
Nov I '^^tson and Clarke, were convicted of high treason.
Tjuiofthe Before the end of the week Cobham and Grey were
pl'isoiicrs. ulso coiivictcd bcfoi'c a court composed of thirty-one
peers, in which the C'hancellor presided as Lord
Nov. i8. InS'obham’s defence there was no dignity
or self-respect Grey displayed conspicuous ability. When,
after the verdict had been given, he was asked whether he coukl
say anything in arrest^of judgment, he candidly acknowledged
that he had nothing to “ Yet,” he added after a pause,
“a word of Tacitus comes into my mind, tadem omnibhs
dicorM The House of Wilton hath spent many lives in their
prince’s service, and Grey -cannot beg his. God send the
king a long and prosperous reign, and to your lordships all
honour.” ‘
^ Carleton to Chmnbeilain, Kov. 27; Cedi to Parry, Dec, i, CouH
und Times of James L 14, 17,
EXECUTIONS AND REPRIEVES.
139
1603
Ten days later the two priests were executed, and in a
Nov. 29. week’s time they were followed by Brooke, who died
Execution of declaring that all that he had said was true, with the
Clarke, exception of the charge which he had brought against
and^oT* brother of wishing that the fox and his cubs were
Biooke. taken awayd
With respect to the other prisoners, the King refused to
listen to any requests made to him, either by those who were
Reprieve of them, or by others who were anxious
the other that they should be executed. At last, after some
prisoner!,, consideration, he determined to take a course by
which he might have the benefit of hearing w'hat their last con-
fessions were, without putting any of them to death. Warrants
were accordingly issued for the execution of Cobham, Grey,
and Markham on December 10. The Bishop of
Chichester was appointed to attend upon Cobham,
and the Bishop of Winchester upon Raleigh, in hopes of ex-
tracting a confession at least from one of them. Both adhered
to their former statements. On the appointed day the three
were brought out for execution one after the other, but after
each had made his declaration, he was sent down from the
scaffold, in pursuance of an order which arrived from the King,
Even when in instant expectation of death Cobham persisted
in his assertion of Raleigh’s guilt^ At last they were all told
that the King had countermanded the execution, and had
granted them their lives. Raleigh, whose execution had been
fixed for a later day, was also informed that he was reprieved.
W'ith Grey and Cobham he was committed to the Tower.
Markham, Copley, and Brooksby were ordered to quit the
kingdom.^ Raleigh’s personal property, which had been for-
’ Carleton to Chamberlain, Dec. ii, Court and Titms of James i, 27.
Cecil to Winwood, Dec. 12, Winw. ii. ro.
As he showed no cowardice on the scaffold, it has often been sup-
posed that he knew he was not to die j on the other hand, the explanation
1 have adopted seems more characteristic of James.
^ Markham took service in the Archduke’s army, and at the same
time acted as a spy for the English Government.
140 yAMSS /. AND THE CATHOLICS. CH. m.
feited by hjs attainder, was restored to him.^ Of the manor of
Sherborne, all that fell into the King’s hands was the interest
which Raleigh retained in it during his life, as he had executed
a conveyance shortly before the death of Elizabeth, by which
he assigned the estate to trustees for the benefit of his wife
and child, though reserving the profits to himself during his
own life. This life-interest was granted by James to two per-
sons nominated by himself, to be held in trust for the benefit
of Lady Raleigh and her son.*
From the disclosures made by the prisoners concerned in
Watson’s plot, James had learned that the conspiracy which
Fear of had been detected formed but a small part of the
Jesuit plots, to which he had been exposed. Watson
had declared that the Jesuits were engaged in a plot which he
believed to be connected with their hopes of a Spanish inva-
sion. Nor was this an unfounded assertion. The movements
which Watson perceived were caused by the preparations made
by Catesby and his friends to receive the army of the King
of Spain, if he should send a favourable answer to their re-
quest.
Just at the time when James might well have felt anxious,
Dr. Gifford arrived from Flanders, as the bearer of assurances
from the Nuncio at Brussels of the strong desire of
Proposals the Pope to keep the English Catholics from insur-
rection.* The satisfaction felt by James at this an-
® nouncement was increased by the reception of a letter
from Sir Thomas Parry, the English ambassador in
France,'* in which he announced that he had received a mes-
sage from Del Bufalo, the Nuncio in Paris, to the effect that
he had received authority from the Pope to recall from Eng-
land all turbulent priests. Del Bufalo further offered to
James that if there remained any in his dominions, priest or
» Grant to Shelbury and Smith, Feb. 14, 1604. RymHs
jcvi. 569.
^ Grant to Brett and Hall, July 30, 1604. S. P, DocqmL
* Degli Effetti to Eel Bufalo, Roman I'ranscriptSi R» 0 ,
* Parry to Cecil, Aug. 20. S, P, France*
i6o3 negotiation WITH THE PAPAL NUNCIO. 141
Jesuit, or other Catholic, whom he had intelligence of for a
' , practice in his State which could not be found out,
upon advertisement of the names the Pope would find
means to deliver them to his justice by ecclesiastical censures.
' To this communication Cecil replied by asking that the
Nuncio should put his offer into writing. Del Bufaio, however,
being unwilling to commit himself, preferred to ask
Progress of _ , . ^ ^ . ... .
thenegotia- for the appointment of a person to treat with him in
Paris. Aftei some delay he was informed by Parry
that James wished the Pope to send to England a layman
with whom he might infonnally communicate, and to give
authority to persons named by himself, to recall turbulent
Catholics from England on pain of excommunication.^ Parry
was also t; place in the Nuncio’s hands a copy of Sir James
Lindsay’s instructions, in order that the bearer, who was at last
about to start for Rome, might not be able to enlarge upon
James them. About the same time another deputation of
riinewshis Catholics waited upon the Council, having, in all
to\ke ^ probability, been alarmed lest their cause should be
Catholics. piy detection of the late conspiracies.
They were assured that the King would keep his word, and
that the fines would not be exacted.^ James, it appeared, had
made up his mind, and had resolved to accord toleration to
the Catholic laity. How far this toleration was to be extended
to the clergy was another matter, on which, as yet, he had
entered into no engagement
In deciding this question James was no doubt much at the
mercy of accidental occurrences. Anything which gave him
pei'sonal annoyance would have considerable influence on his
policy ; and, unfortunately for the Catholics, before many wmeks
passed, James was seriously annoyed.
In the course of the summer Sir Anthony Standen had been
^ Del Bufaio to the King, Sept Del Bufaio to Aldobrandino,
; Roman Transcripts R. 0 . ; James to Parry, in Tierney’s Dodd.
iv, App. p. Ixvi and Hatjield MSS. 120, fol. 150; Parry to Cecil, Aug.
20 ; Cecil to Parry, Nov. 6, S. P, France*
^ Petition Apolo^etical, p. 27.
142
JAMES L AND THE CATHOLICS. CH. iii
sent by James on a mission to some cf the Italian States. He
was himself a Catholic, and was eager to take part in
standen’s the grand scheme for reconciling England to the See
mission. Rome. He urged upon the Pope the importance of
sending an agent to England, to discuss with the King the points
in dispute between the Churches, and he suggested that the
Sept. mediation of the Queen might produce good effects.
SwSy a” Anne of Denmark, in fact, though she attended the
Catholic. Protestant services, was secretly a Catholic, so far
at least as her pleasure-loving nature allowed her to be of any
religion at all, and she took great delight in the possession of
consecrated objects.^
While Standen was in Italy he entered into communication
with Father Persons, who induced the Pope to emplojr the
messenger to carry to the Queen some objects of
o^SsTeiu devotion, and who himself wrote through the same
medium to some priests in England. Standen was
not the man to keep a secret, and he had scarcely arrived in
England when he was arrested and lodged in the
Jan. 1604. presents from the Pope were subse-
iinpn!,oned. petumed, through the Nuncio in Paris.^
James was particularly annoyed at the discovery of this
clandestine correspondence with his wife. With some difficulty
he had induced her to receive the communion with
him at Salisbury, but she had been much vexed with
tiie Queeu. siiice, and had refused to do it again. On
Christmas day she had accompanied him to Church, but since
then he had found it impossible to induce her to be present at
a Protestant service. Standen, it now seemed, had arrived to
thwart him. He dismissed several of the Queenls attendants
^ Degli Effetli to Del Bufalo, June ~ ; Pei*sons to Aldubranclino,
Sept. Roman 7'ranscrifts^ R. 0,
Villeroi to Beaumont, Cecil to Parry, Jan. 24 and Feb. 4 ;
.S'. P. France^ Del Bufalo to Aldebrandino, Nov, Roman TranscriptSf
R, 0,
i 6 o 4 negotiation WITH THE PAPAL NUNCIO. 143
who were suspected of having come to an understanding with
Stan den, and he ordered her chamberlain, Lord Sidney, the
brother of Sir Philip, and himself a decided Protestant, to be
assiduous in his attendance on the duties of his officed
Before the impression made upon James by this untoward
affair had worn away, the Nuncio received from Rome an
The Pope answer to the proposal made by James, that a person
Sfcommu- should be invested with the power of excommuni-
leScatho-^' ^^^ng turbuIcnt Catholics, This scheme had been
Hc«. warmly supported by the Nuncio at Paris. But it
ivas not one to which the Pope could give his assent. To ex-
communicate Catholics at the bidding of a heretic prince was
contrary to all the traditions of the Church, and Del Bufalo
was therefore informed that James could not be gratified in this
particular. Nor could anyone be sent to England as a represen-
tative of the Pope, for fear lest he might be drawn into political
contests in which France or Spain would be interested on one
side or the other.^
That James should take umbrage at this refusal of the Pope
to comply with his wishes, was only to be expected. He had,
I ’ e of reasons for reconsidering his position
the Catholics towards the English Catholics. As might have been
in England, t,ince the Weight of the penal laws had been
removed, there had been a great increase in the activity of the
Catholic missionaries. Some months before James had given
orders that a list of the recusants in each county should be
^ Information given to Del Bufalo by a person leaving England on
Jan. Ronian Transaipts, R. 0.
^ So I interpret the Pope’s note on Del Bufalo’s despatch of Dec. —
{Roman Transcripts^ R, 0.) : ‘ Quanto alia facolta di chiamare sotto pena
di scomunica i turbolenti, non ci par da darla per adesso, perche trattiamo
con Heretici, e corriamo pericolo di perdere i sicuri, si come non ci par
che il Nuntio debba premere nella cosa di mandar noi personaggio, perche
dull tiamo che essendo tanta gelosia tra Francia e Spagna non intrassimo
in grandissima difficolth. E meglio aspettare la conclusione della Pace
secondo noi, perche non sapiamo che chi mandassirao fosse per usar la
prudenlia necessaria.’
144
JAMES L AND THE CATHOLICS. ch . hi .
drawn up.* ■ When the returns came in, the increase of the
numbers of tlie Catholics was placed beyond doubt.^ It is
probable, however, that the greater part of this increase was
more ostensible than real, as many persons who stayed away
from church now that they could do so with impunity would
doubtless have frequented the services if penalties for absence
had been still exacted.
It was inevitable that such a position of affairs should sug-
gest to the Government the propriety of reverting to the old
measures of repression. Urged by the Privy Coun-
Thepro-* cil,^ ' and hesitating in his own mind, James, on
February 22, issued a proclamation ordering the
banishment of the priests by March 19. The day
priests. fixed was that of the meeting of Parliament, and it is
not unlikely that the desire to anticipate awkward questions in
the House of Commons had something to do with the King^s
resolution. There was at least nothing in the proclamation
inconsistent with the policy which he had announced before
leaving Scotland. Toleration to the laity combined with a
treatment of the clergy which would place a bar in rhe way
of extensive conversion was the programme which James had
then announced, and which he was now attempting to carry
out.
It was not a tenable position. The flow of the tide of
religious belief could not be regulated to suit the wishes of any
Government, and James would find that he must either do more
or less than he was now doing. We need not speak harshly of
him for his vacillation. The question of the toleration of the
Catholics was not one to be solved by a few elegant phrases
’ This is referred to as if it had been news from England, Nov. — , Roman
Transcripts, R. O . ; but I suppose it is only the order given on June 30,
which is printed in Wilkins’s Cone. iv. 368.
» Only the return from Yorkshire has been preserved, and has been
printed by Mr. Peacock. A List of tJu Roman Catholics in the County of
York in 1604.
*» James said to the Spanish ambassador : ‘ Che quelli del ConsigHo
gll havevano fatto tanta forza che no haveva potuto far altro, ma che no si
sarebbe csseguito con rigore alcuno.’-— Del Biifalc to Aldobrandino,
Roman Transcripts, R. O,
j 6 o 4 the difficulty OF TOLERATION. 145
about religious liberty. In wishing to grant toleration to those
from whom he differed, James was in advance of bis age, and
it is no matter of astonishment if he did not see his way more
clearly. It was no slight merit in a theological controversialist,
such as James, to be unwilling to use compulsion if it could
possibly be avoided.
VOL.
146
CHAPTER IV.
THE HAMPTON COURT CONFERENCE AND THE PARLIAMENTARY
OPPOSITION.
Consciousness of strength is the necessary condition of tolera >
tion. Whatever tended to weaken the English Church would
i6c 3. postpone the day when those who regarded her
Divisions in devotioii could bear with equanimity the attacks
the English , . , i i y-, i ,• v
Church. directed against her by the Catholics. It was only
natural that the Catholics themselves, who aimed not at tolera-
tion but at supremacy, should see the position of affairs in a
diiferent light
Blackwell, the Archpriest, was overjoyed at the news that
the Puritans and their adversaries were struggling with one
another for the favour of the new King. “ War between the
heretics,” he gleefully wrote, “is the peace of the Church.” *
That strife in which Blackwell rejoiced, all who were not under
the influence of Blackwell’s Church were anxious to end.
Unfortunately those who wished the Church of England to be
strengthened, differed as to the means by which so desirable
an object was to be attained. There were some who thought
that the Church would grow strong by the silencing of all who
wished to deviate from its rules. There were others who
believed that their relaxation would promote a nobler unity.
P'oremost amongst these latter stood Bacon, the great political
thinker of the age. “I am partly persuaded,” he wrote,
“that the Papists themselves should not need so much the
severity of penal laws if the sword of the Spirit were better
edged, by strengthening the authority and repressing the abuses
* Blackwell to Farnese, Nov. p I^oman Transcrips^ R, 0.
i 605 bacon on the UNITY OF THE CHURCH. 147
of the Church.” ^ Bacon found the root of the matter to
consist in spiritual freedom under the guardianship of law.
PUce must be found in the ministry of the Church for all
who were willing to fight the good fight, unless they shook
off ‘all bonds by which men were enabled to work together.
‘The silencing of ministers,’ he held, was, in the scarcity of
good preachers, ‘ a punishment that lighted upon the people as
well as upon the party.’ “ It is good,” he wrote, “ we return
unto the ancient bonds of unity in the Church of God,
which was, one faith, one baptism ; and not, one hierarchy,
one discipline; and that Ave observe the league of Chris-
tians, as it is penned by our Saviour Christ, which is in sub-
stance of doctrine this : ‘ He that is not with us is against
us ; ’ but in things indifferent and but of circumstance this :
‘ He that is not against us is with us.’ ”
If these words do not solve the difficulties of Church dis-
cipline for a time w^hen there are differences of opinion on
questions of faith as well as on questions of ceremonial, they
were admirably suited to the circumstances of the moment.
It was a time when it behoved every Protestant Chu ch to close
its ranks, not by the elimination of those who differed from
some arbitrary standard of conformity, but by welcoming all
who based their faith on the belief that truth was to be gained
by search and inquiry.
In dedicating this treatise to J.ame.s, Bacon laid his views
before a man who was by no means incapable of appreciating
Effector them. James’s mind v;as large and tolerant, and he
advice' upon aversc to the language of sectarian fanaticism.
James. jn his behaviour during the early months of his reign
there w^re evident signs that he had pondered Bacon’s advice.
James had very soon become aware that in the relations of
Puritanism to the Church there was a problem to be solved as
„ difficult as that of the toleration of the Catholics. As
Nevill sent -r-.,. i
toEdin- soon as Elizabeth s death was know’n, Archbishop
Whitgift despatched Nevill, the Dean of Canterbury,
to Edinburgh, in order to make himself acquainted with the
^ Certain Considtrations touching ths better Tacificaf ion and Edification
of the Church of Enghndy Bacon's ^ etiers and Lifcy in. 103.
148 THE HAMPTON COURT CONFERENCE. CH. iv.
sentiments if the new King. The messenger was soon able to
leport, joyfully, tliat James had at least no intention of establish-
ing Presbyterianism in England.
On his progress towards London, James was called
I'he MU to an address of a very different na-
lenary ture. A petition,* strongly supported by the Puritan
letitioii. clergy, ^vas presented to him, in which their wishes
were set forth.
The petition was very different from those which had been
drawn up early in Elizabeth’s reign, in which the abolition of
Proposed Episcopacy and the compulsory introduction of Pres-
the ?riyer byterianisiTi had been demanded. It contented itself
Book. ^ith asking for certain definite alterations in the
existing system. In the Baptismal Service interrogations were
no longer to be addressed to infants ; nor was the sign of the
cross to be used. The rite of Confirmation was to be discon-
tinued. It had been the practice for nurses and other women
to administer baptism to newly-born infants in danger of death.
This custom was to be forbidden. The cap and surplice were
not to be ‘urged,’ Persons presenting themselves for Com-
munion were to undergo a previous examination, and the
Communion was always to be preceded by a sermon. ‘ The
divers terras of priests and absolution, and some other used,’
were to be ‘corrected.’ The ring was no longer to enter into
the marriage service, although it might he retained in private
use, as a token given by the husband to his wife.^ The length
Commonly called the Millenary Petition, because it purported to
proceed from ‘more than a thousand ministers.’ It was said by Fuller
{Ch. Hist. V. 265), and it has often been repeated, that only seven hun-
dred and fifty preachers’ hands were set thereto. The fact seems to have
been that there were no signatures at all to it. The petitioners, in a
Defence of their Petition, presented later in the year [Add. MSS. 8978)
distinctly say, * Neither before were any hands required to it, but only
consent,’ They probably received only seven hundred and fifty letters of
assent, and left the original words standing, either accidentally or as be-
lieving that the sentiments of at least two hundred and fifty out of those
who had not come forward were represented in the petition.
* This explanation is adopted from the Defence before mentioned
(fol. 36 b.)
THE MILLENARY PETITION.
149
1603
of the services was to be abridged, and church music was to be
plainer and simpler than it had hitherto been, llie Lord’s
day was not to be profaned, and, on the other hand, the people
were not to be compelled to abstain from labour on holyday.s.
Uniformity of doctrine was to be prescribed, in order that all
p'opish opinions might be condemned Ministers were not to
teach the people to bow at the name of Jesus ; and, finally, the
Apocrypha was to be excluded from the calendar of the lessons
to be read in church.
These demands could not, of course, be granted as they
stood. If the clergy alone were to be consulted, a large number
would be found among them who would view these matters
with very different eyes. I’he great mass of the laity, especially
in country parishes, would be equally averse to the change.*
Any attempt to enforce the alterations demanded would have
stirred up opposition from one end of the country to the other.
The difficulties were enormous, even if the Bishops had been
inclined to look them fairly in the face. Still, something might
have been done if they had been animated by a conciliatory
spirit. By a little fair dealing, the peace of the Church would
have been preserved far better than by any rigid enactments.
That a very different spirit prevailed can cause us no astonish-
ment To the Elizabethan party some of the proposed changes
seemed to be absolutely injurious, whilst others were only
necessary in order to meet scruples which appeared to them to
be childish and absurd.
The remainder of the petition was occupied by requests,
the greater part of which deserved the serious consideration of
all parties. The petitioners hoped that none should hereafter
be admitted to the ministry who were unable to preach ; that
such of these who were already admitted should be compelled
* In An Ahriilgenimt of that Book zvJiiih the Ministers of Lincoln
Diocese delivered to His MajeAy, 1605, p. 39, it is urgsd, in favour of
abolishing the cejemonies. that ‘many of the people in all parts of the
land are known to be of this mind, that the sacraments are not rightly and
Bufificiently ministered without them.’ The conclusion drawn was that
such ceremonies ought not to be allowed to exist, because their use was
detrimental to those who placed an idolatrous value upon them.
r^o THE HAMPTON COURT CONFERENCh,. CH. iv.
to maintain preachers ; and that a check should be put on the
, , abuse of non-residence. It was asked that ministers
I'l-jpased . ,
letor.iis in sliould not be required to testify by their subscription
to the whole of the substance of the Prayer Book,
Church. should bc Sufficient if they subscribed
to the Articles and to the King’s Supremacy. With respect
to the maintenance of the clergy, the petitioners suggested
that the impropriations annexed to bishoprics and colleges
should hereafter be let only to those incumbents of livings who
were able to preach, and wffio were at no future time to be
called upon to pay any higher rent than that which was
demanded at the time when the lease was first granted.
Impropriations held by laymen might be charged with a
sixth or seventh part of their worth for the maintenance of a
preaching ministry. They also asked for reforms in the ec-
clesiastical courts, especially that excommunication should
not be pronounced by lay Chancellors and officials, and that
persons might not be ‘excommunicated for trifles and twelve-
penny matters.’ ^
The spirit in which this petition was met was not such as
to give any hope of an easy solution of the difficulty. The
^ , Universities were the first to sound the alarm. Cam-
Answer tay
tiie um- bridge pa.ssed a grace forbidding all persons within
the University from publicly finding fault with the
doctrine or discipline of the Church of England, either by word
or writing, upon pain of being suspended from their degrees.
O.xford came forward with a violent answer to the petition.* If
the Universities could have won their cause by scolding, the
Puritans would have been cru.shed for ever. They were accused
by the Oxford doctors of factious conduct in daring to disturb
the King with their complaints. They were told that they were
men of the same kind as those who had so often stirred up
treason and sedition in Scotland, and that as for their eagerness
to preach, it would have been a happy thing if the Church of
> Coliier, vii. 267.
** The Answer of the Vice- Chancellory the Doctors^ xviih the Proctors
and other Heads of Houses in the University of Oxford, ^c, 1603. The
Cambridge Grace is quoted in the epistle dedicator)’.
r6o3 yAAfES URGES REFORMS. T51
England had never heard anything of their factious sermons or
of their scurrilous pamphlets.
Their demands were treated with that cool insolence which
scarcely deigns to argue with an opponent, and which’ never
attempts to understand his case. It was taken for granted that
no concessions could be made by the King unless he were
prepared for the establishment of Presbyterianism, and it was
argued that the hearts of the people would be stolen away from
their Sovereign by preachers who would be sure to teach them
that the King’s ‘ meek and humble clergy have power to bind
their King in chains, and their Prince in links of iron, that is
(m their learning) to censure him, to enjoin him penance, to
excommunicate him ; yea (in case they see cause) to proceed
against him as a tyrant’
In the beginning of July, James astonished the Universities
.by recommending them to adopt one of the proposals of the
. petitioners. He informed them that he intended to
James pro* ^
I OSes that devote to the maintenance of preaching ministers
the Univer- , . . . , . , , . ,
sities shall such mipropriate tithes as he was able to set aside
preaching for the purpose, and that he hoped that they would
minii,ters. foPow his example.^ Whitgift immediately took
alarm and drew up a statement for the King of the incon-
veniences which -were likely to result^ Nothing more was
heard of the matter. The Universities were left in peace, and
the King never found himself in a condition to lay aside money
for any purpose whatever,
Another step had already been taken, which shows that
James had felt the weight of the latter part of the petition. On
May 12 a circular was sent round by Whitgift to the Bishops,
demanding an account of the number of preachers in their
respective dioceses. This was followed on June 30 by another
letter, requiring still more particular information.^ They were
to report on the number of communicants and of recusants in
every parish, and were also to give a number of particulars
’ King to Chancellors of the Universities, Wilkins’s Cone. iv. 369.
King to Heads of Houses, S. P, Dorn. ii. 38.
Whitgift to King, J?. P. Dom. ii. 39.
* Wilkina’s Cone. iv. 368,
152 THE HAMPTON COURT CONFERENCE. CH. iv.
respecting the clergy sufficiently minute to serve as a "basis for
any course which might remedy the alleged evils.
There was much in all this to raise the hopes of the Puritan
ministers. James appeared ready to remove abuses in spite of
Sept. the opposition of those who thought them to be no
^o'jching abuses at all. In the course of September a scene
Kings evil, took place which showed him to be desirous of look-
ing with his own eyes into matters on which the minds of
ordinary Englishmen had long been made up. When he first
arrived in England James had objected to touch for the king’s
evil. He had strorig doubts as to the existence of the power
to cure scrofulous disease, which was supposed to be derived
from the Confessor. The Scotch ministers whom he had
brought with him to England urged him to abandon the practice
as superstitious. To his English counsellors it was a debasing
of royalty to abandon the practice of his predecessors. With
no very good will he consented to do as Elizabeth had done
but he first made a public declaration of his fear lest he should
incur the blame of superstition. Yet as it was an ancient usage,
afid for the benefit of his subjects, he would try what would be
the result, but only by way of prayer, in which he requested all
present to join.^ In after years he showed less hesitancy, and
Shakspere could flatter him by telling not only how Edward
had cured the sick by his touch, but how he had left ‘ the
healing benediction ’ to ‘ the succeeding royalty.’ ^
During the course of the summer, the Puritans attempted
to support their views by obtaining signatures to petitions circu-
lated among the laity.^ A proclamation was issued in conse-
quence, commanding all persons to abstain from taking part in
such demonstrations, and giving assurance that the King would
not allow the existing ecclesiastical constitution to be tampered
with, though at the same time he was ready to correct abuses.
Letter from England, 1603. Information given by a person
leaving England on Jan 1604, Roman Transcripts^ R. 0 .
® Mackth, iv. 3.
” Whitgift and Bancroft to Cecil, Sept. 24, 1C03, S. P. Dorn. iii. S3,
and Fuller, v, 31 1.
t6o3 THE PURITANS AT THE CONFERENCE. 153
In order to obtain further information on the points in dispute^
he had determined that a conference should be held in his
presence between certain learned men of both parties. No
one, he said, could be more ready than he was to introduce
amendments wherever the existence of real evils could be
proved. ^
After several postponements, the antagonists met at Hamp-
ton Court on January 14. On the one side were summoned
the Archbishop of Canterbury, eight Bishops, seven
Jan. X4. Deans, and two other clergymen. The other party
Siicr* represented by Reynolds, Chaderton, Sparks,
meet^. a.nd Knewstubs. These four men had been selected
by the King, and he could not have made a better choice, or
one which would have given more satisfaction to the moder-
The first PuHtans. To the proceedings of the first day
day’s pio- they were not admitted. The King wished first to
Leedingb. Bishops, in Order to induce them to
tans ex- accept a variety of changes, which were in the main
eluded. Bacon would have approved.
On the second day the case of the complainants was heard.
Reynolds commenced by urging the propriety of altering some
points in the Articles, and proposed to introduce
o/Se**^* i^^to them that unlucky formulary which is known
th^cora^-^^ by the name of the Lambeth Articles, by which
Whitgift had hoped to bind the Church of England
to the narrowest and most repulsive form of Calvin-
istic doctrine, and thus to undo the work of Elizabeth, who
had wisely stifled it in its birth. Reynolds then proceeded to
demand that the grounds upon which the rite of Confirmation
rested should be reviewed. This was more than Bancroft
could bear. He was at this time Bishop of London, and was
generally regarded as the man who was to succeed Whitgift as
the champion of the existing system. He even went beyond
the Archbishop, having publicly declared his belief that the
Episcopal constitution of the Church was of Divine institution.
In defending the cause entrusted to him, he overstepped all
the bounds of decency. Interrupting the speaker, he knelt
^ Wilkins’s Cone. iv. 371.
154 THE HAMPTON COURT CONFERENCE, ch. iv
down before the King and requested ‘ that the ancient canon
might be remembered,’ which directed that schismatics were not
to be listened to when they w^ere speaking against their Bishops.
Bancrofts Subscribcd
iLt^rruption, CommunioH Book, he hoped that a hearing
would now be refused to them, as an ancient Council had once
determined ‘ that no man should be admitted to speak against
that whereunto he had formerly subscribed.’ He then pro*
needed to hint that, in being allowed to speak at all, Reynolds
and his companions had been permitted to break the statute
by which penalties were imposed on all persons depraving the
Book of Common Prayer. He concluded by quoting a pas-
sage from Cartwright’s works, to the effect that men ought
rather to conform themselves ‘ in orders and ceremonies to the
fashion of the Turks, than to the Papists, which position he
doubted they approved, because, contrary to the orders of the
Universities, they appeared before his Majesty in Turkey gowns,
not in their scholastic habits sorting to their degree.’
The insolent vulgarity of this specimen of episcopal wit was
too much for James. Although he fully agreed with Bancroft
reproved dislikc of Reynolds’s arguments, he could not
by James, fQj- unseasonable interrup-
tion. The two parties then proceeded to discuss the disputed
points as far as they related to questions of doctrine. On the
whole, James showed to great advantage in this part of the
conference. He had paid considerable attention to matters of
this kind, and the shrewd common sense which he generally
had at command, when he had no personal question to deal
with, raised him above the contending parties. On the one
h-and, he refused to bind the Church, at Reynolds’s request, to
the Lambeth Articles ; on the other, in spite of Bancroft’s ob-
jections, he accepted Reynolds’s proposal for an improved
translation of the Bible,
The question of providing a learned ministry was then
brought forward, and promises were given that attention should
be paid to the subject The Bishop of Winchester complained
t f the bad appointments made by lay patrons. Bancroft, who
treated the whole subject as a mere party question, took the
iGo\ JAMES AND THE PURITANS. 155
opportunity of inveighing against the preachers of the Puritan
school, who were, as he said, accustomed to show their dis-
respect of the Liturgy by walking up and down ‘ in the church-
yard till sermon time, rather than be present at public prayer.’
The King answered, that a preaching ministry was undoubtedly
to be preferred ; but that ‘ where it might not be had, godly
prayers and exhortations did much good.’ “ That that may I)e
done,” he ended by saying, “let it, and let the rest that cannot,
be tolerated,”
The remaining points of the petition were then brought
under discussion. Unless the Puritans have been much mis-
The King’s represented,* their inferiority in breadth 'of view is
Eetweenthe conspicuous. If James had been merely presiding
two parties. Qver a scholastic disputation, his success would have
been complete. , But, unfortunately, there were arguments
which he could not hear from any who were before him. He
w'as not called upon to decide whether it w’as proper that the
ring should be used in marriage, and the cross in baptism.
What he was called upon to decide was whether, without taking
into consideration the value of the opinions held by either
party, those opinions w’ere of sufficient importance to make it
necessary to close the mouths of earnest and pious preachers.
Except by Bacon, this question was never fairly put before
him. The Puritans wished that their views should be carried
out in all parts of England,^ and when they were driven from
this ground they could only ask that respect should be paid to
the consciences of the weak, a plea wEich did not come with
‘ With the exception of a letter of Matthews printed in Strype’s
Whitgfi, App, xlv., and of Galloway’s in Caldei'wood^ vi. 241, and another
of Montague’s to his mother, Wima. ii. 13, our only authority is !l^arlow’s
Szim of the Conference. He has been charged with misrepresentation, and
he evidently did injustice to the Puritan ar^^uments which were distasteful
to him, and which he did not understand. But if he had introduced any
actual misrepresentation, we should certainly have had a more correct
account from the other side. After all, if the arguments of the Puritans
have been weakened, it is scarcely possible to find elsewhere stronger
proofs of Bancroft’s deficiencies in temper and character.
- The clause in the petition which relates to the cap and surplice is the
only one which seems to ask for permission to deviate from an established
order, instead of demanding a change of the order.
156 THE HAMPTON COURT CONTERENCE, CH. ly.
a good grace from men who had been anxious to bind the
whole body of the English clergy in the fetters of the Lambeth
Articles.*
The debate which had gone on with tolerable fairness since
Bancroft’s interruption, received another turn, from a proposal
made by Reynolds, that the Prophesyings should be restored.
1 he restoration of these meetings had been deliberately recom-
mended by Bacon, as the best means for training men for the
delivery of sermons. It is doubtful whether James could ha\e
been brought to allow them under any circumstances, but
Reynolds did not give his proposal a fair chance. He coupled
it with a suggestion, that all disputed points which might arise
during the Prophesyings should be referred to the Bishop with
his Presbyters. At the word Presbyters James fired up. He
His anger Puritans that they were aiming ‘ at a Scottish
tion ofThe’ which,’ he said, ‘ agreeth as well with a
word^Pres- monarchy as God and the devil’ ‘‘I'hen Jack and
bjters. Tom, and Will and Dick, shall meet, and at their plea-
sure censure me and my Council and all our proceedings. Then
Will shall stand up, and say, ^ It must be thus ; ’ then Dick shall
reply, and say, ‘ Nay, marry, but we will have it thus.’ And,
therefore, here I must reiterate my former speech, k Roi iavi ■
sera. Stay, I pray you, for one seven years, before you demand
that from me, and if then you find me pursy and fat, and my
windpipes stuffed, I will perhaps hearken to you ; for let that
government be once up, I am sure I shall be kept in breath ;
then shall we all of us have work enough, both our hands full.
But, Doctor Reynolds, until you find that I grow lazy, let that
alone.”
From his own point of view James was right Liberty
brings with it many advantages, but it certainly does not tend
to enable men in office to lead an easy life. Yet natural as it
' The King’s reply is crushing, merely regarded as an argumentum
ad hominem. He asked, ‘how long they would be weak ? Whether
forty-five years were not sufficient for them to grow strong ? Who they
were that pretended this weakness, for we require not now subscription
from laics and idiots, but preachers and ministers, who are not now I trow
to be fed with milk, but are enabled to feed others.’
i6o4 result of THE CONFERENCE, 157
must have seemed to him to give such an answer as this, in two
minutes he had sealed his own fate and the fate of England for
ever. The trial had come, and he had broken down. He had
shut the door, not merely against the Puritan cry for the accept-
ance of their own system, but against the large tolerance of Bacon.
The essential littleness of the man was at once revealed. Moro
and more the maxim, “ No Bishop, no King,” became the rule
of his conduct The doctrines and practices of the Bishops
became connected in his mind with the preservation of his own
power. He was gratified by their submissiveness, and he looked
upon the views of the opposite party as necessarily associated
with rebellion. ,
At the moment, the self-satisfaction of the controversialist
predominated even over the feelings of the monarch. “ If this
be all they have to say,” he observed as he left the room, “ I
shall make them conform themselves, or I will harry them out
of the land, or else do worse.”
The impression produced upon the bystanders wms very
different from that which later generations have received. One
w'ho was present said, that ‘ His Majesty spoke by inspiration
of the Spirit of God.’ ^ Cecil thanked God for having given
the King an understanding heart Ellesmere declared that he
never before understood the meaning of the legal maxim that
Rex est mixta persona cum sacerdote. It is usual to ascribe
these and similar expressions to the courtier-like facility of
giving utterance to flattery. In so doing, we forget that these
men were fully persuaded that James was doing right in resist-
ing the demands of the Puritans, and that men are very ready
to forget the intemperate form in which an opinion may be
clothed, when the substance is according to their mind.
Two days later, the King again met the Bishops, and
agreed with them upon certain alterations which w'ere to be
Third day’s Prayer Book. It w^as also determined
conference. Commissions should be appointed for inquir-
ing into the best mode of obtaining a preaching clergy. The
* Barlow ascribes this speech to one of the lords. Sir J. Haiington,
who was also present, assigns it to a Bi.'Jiop. At the next meeting Whit-
gift repeated it.
158 THE HAMPTON COURT CONFERENCE, cii. tv.
Puritans were then called in, and were informed that, with a
few exceptions,* the practices which they had objected to would
The decision maintained, and that subscription would be en-
announced. forced to the whole of the Prayer Book, as well as to
the Articles and to the King’s Supremacy. Chaderton begged
that an exception might be made in favour of the Lancashire
clergy, who had been diligent in converting recusants. The
King replied that as he had no intention of hurrying anyone,
time would be given to all to consider their position ; letters
should be written to the Bishop of Chester, ordering him to
grant a sufficient time to these men. A similar request, how-
ever, which was made on behalf of the Suffolk clergy was re-
fused.
The conference was at an end. Browbeaten by the
yBishops, and rebuked in no measured or decorous language ®
by James, the defenders of an apparently hopeless cause went
back to their labours, to struggle on as best they might Yet
to them the cause they defended was not hopeles.s, for no
doubt ever crossed their minds that it was the cause of God,
and it would have seemed blasphemy to them to doubt that
that cause would ultimately prevail. Nor were they deprived
of human consolation : many hearts would sympathise with
them in their wrongs ; many a man who cared nothing for
minute points of doctrine and ritual, and who was quite
satisfied with the service as he had been accustomed to join in
it at his parish church, would feel his heart swell with indig-
nation when he heard that men whose fame for learning and
piety was unsurpassed by that of any Bishop on the bench,
^ had been treated with cool contempt by men who
’ ’ were prepared to use their wit to defend every abuse,
and to hinder all reform.
James went his way, thinking little of what he had done,
The proclamation giving public notice of this determination was
issued on March 5, Ryimr^ xvi. 574 j for the alterations themselves see
565-
There can be no doubt that many of the excrescences have been cut
off in Barlow’s narrative from the King’s speeches. The coarse language
used by James is noticed in Az^ga Ant i. z8i.
i6o4
DEATH OF WHITGIFT
159
and scarcely remembering what had passed, except to chuckle
over the adversaries whom he had so easily discomfited by his
logical prowess.^ The Bishops too imagined that their victory
was secured for ever, and rejoiced in the overthrow of their
whitgift opponents. But there was at least one among them
d jubtfui of success was more in appearance
ultimate than in reality. The aged Whitgift, whose life had
passed in the heat of the conflict, discovered
the quarter from which danger was to be apprehended. He
hoped, he used to say, that he might not live to see the meet-
ing of Parliament. He was at least spared that misfortune.
A few weeks after the conference, his earthly career was at an
end. While he was lying in his last illness, the King came to
visit him. He found the old man lying almost insensible, but
Feb. 29. able to mutter a few words. All that could be heard
Sirdrand ecdesid Dei: pro ecclesid DeV Narrow-
death. minded and ungentle by nature and education, he
had provoked many enemies ; but he at least believed that he
was working for the Church of God.
Parliament, the very name of which had caused such
anxiety to Whitgift, was a very different body from those re-
March 19. presentative assemblies which still existed upon the
The English Continent— the mere shadows of their former selves,
ar uinen . causes concurred in producing this difference.
But the main cause lay in the success with which England
itself had grown up into a harmonious civilisation, so that its
Parliament was the true representative of a united nation, and
not a mere arena in which contending factions might display
their strength.
^ The King to Northampton, Ellis, 3rd ser. iv. 161. Here and else-
where this letter is said to be written to an otherwise unknown Mr. Blake.
It is printed as beginning ‘ My faithful Blake, I dare not say, faced 3,’
which is mere nonsense. In the original MS. the word is ‘ blake,’ not
commencing with a capital letter. 3 is always the cypher for Northampton
in James’s correspondence. What James meant was no doubt ‘ My faithful
black, I dare not say (black) faced Northampton.’ Northampton had, I
suppose, objected to being called blackfaced, * Blake ’ is equivalent to
‘ black.’ In Spottiswoode, for instance, the name of the St. Andrewes’
preacher, David Black, is printed Blake.
i6o THE HAMPTON COURT CONFERENCE. CH. tv.
Where this process of amalgamation has not been com-
pleted, parliamentary government, in the true sense of the
word, is an impossibility. When Louis XIV. astonished the
world by declaring that he was himself the State, he was un-
awares giving utterance to the principle from which he derived
his power. In the France of his day, it was the monarch alone
w'ho represented the State as a whole, and, as a natural con-
sequence, he was able to trample at his pleasure upon the
bodies in which nothing higher was to be seen than the repre-
sentatives of a party or a faction. If a representative assembly
is to succeed in establishing its supremacy over a whole country
equal to that which is often found in the hands of an absolute
monarch, it must first be able to claim a right to stand up on
behalf of the entire nation. The position which was occupied
by the House of Commons at the close of the reign of
Elizabeth, was due to the. complete harmony in which it stood
with the feelings and even with the prejudices of all classes of
the people.
The right of representing the people was practically con-
fined to the higher classes, who alone could afford the ex-
pense of a residence in Westminster. But in scarcely a single
instance did they owe their election, at least ostensibly, to
their equals in rank. To secure a seat, it was necessary to
obtain the favour of those whose interests were more or less
different from their own. County members were dependent
upon their poorer neighbours, who formed the mass of the
forty-shilling freeholders. The borough members, with all the
habits and feelings of gentlemen, were equally dependent upon
the shopkeepers of the towns for which they sat Originally,
the right of voting in the boroughs had been vested in the
resident householders ; but this uniformity had given way
before the gradual changes which had passed over the several
boroughs. In some places, the franchise had been consider-
ably extended ; in others, it had been no less considerably
narrowed. One member was chosen by almost universal
suffrage ; another, by a close corporation consisting of the
most respectable and intelligent inhabitants. In the smaller
boroughs, indeed, the selection of a representative was practl-
i6o4 the house OF COMMONS, i6i
cally in tha hands of the most influential amongst the neigh-
bouring proprietors ; but even the form of an election pre-
vented him from nominating persons who would be altogether
distasteful to these whose votes he wished to secure. The
effect of this vv^as that, except in the case of agricultural
labourers, who were, perhaps necessarily, altogether excluded
from the suffrage, all class legislation was impossible.
Another change, which had been silently introduced, was
of still greater importance. The old rule had been relaxed,
which forbade any member to sit for a place in which he was
not a resident. If this rule had continued in force, the House
would still have represented the popular will, but it would have
been sadly deficient in intelligence and ability. Some evil, no
doubt, resulted, and persons obtained seats w’ho only owed
them to the good- wall of a neighbouring proprietor ; but this
was as nothing in comparison with the advantage which arose
from the introduction into the House of a large body of men
of ability, recruited especially from amongst the lawyers, who
became known to the electors by the talent w'hich they dis-
played at the bar. The services which this class of men
rendered to the cause of freedom were incalculable. The
learning of the ablest lawyers in the sixteenth century may
have been small in comparison with the stores of knowledge
which may be acquired in our own day ; but, relatively to the
general level of education, it stood far higher. A few years
later a race of Parliamentary statesmen wmuld b^gin to arise
from amongst the country gentlemen but, as yet, almost all
pretensions to statesmanship were confined to the council
table and its supporters. For the present, the burden of the
conflict in the Commons lay upon the lawyers, who at once
gave to the struggle against the Crowm that strong legal
character which it never afterwards lost.
It was to its position as the representative of a united
nation that, above all other causes, the House of Commons
^ owed its growing desire to take a prominent part in
Cau^esofthe , t
national love the guidance of the nation. In struggling against
ofUberty. Catholics, indeed, the Government of Elizabeth
had been armed by Parliament and by public opinion with
VOU I. M
162 THE PARLIAMENTARY OPPOSITION. CH. iv.
extraordinary powers ; but those powers had been required to
resist the foreign enemy far more than the English Catholic*!
themselves, who had suffered most from their exercise. Ac-
cordingly, a much smaller amount of repression had been
needed than would have been required if the nation had been
divided against itself. Yet even this repression had left results
behind it which were likely to give much trouble. Institutions
have a tendency to survive the purposes to which they owe
their existence, and it was only natural that James should claim
all the powers which had once been entrusted to Elizabeth.
On the other hand, it was unlikely that he would be allowed
to retain them without a struggle. There was no imminent
danger, which made men fear to weaken the Government even
when they disapproved of its action.
Between the Crown and the House of Commons the House
of Lords could only play a subordinate part. It had no longer
The House Sufficient power to act independently of both. For
of Lords. present it was, by sympathy and interest, attached
to the Government, and it acted for some time more in the
spirit of an enlarged Privy Council than as a separate branch
of the legislature. It is in its comparative weakness that its
real strength consists. If it had been able to oppose a barriei
to the Crown, or to the Commons, it would have been swept
away long ago. It has retained its position through so many
revolutions because it has, from time to time, yielded to the
expressed determination of the representatives of the people ;
whilst it has done good service more by the necessity which
it imposes upon the House of Commons of framing their
measures so as to consult the feelings of others besides them-
selves, than by the labours in which it has been itself em-
ployed.
On January ii, 1604, a proclamation was issued calling
upon the constituencies to send up meinbers to a Parliament,
prociama- ^his proclamation, James gave his subjects much
summoning advicc, which would now be considered super-
pariiament. fluous, Hc recommended them to choose men fitted
for the business of legislation, rather than such as looked to a
merely as a means of advancing their private interests. In
i604 meeting of FARLIAMENT 163
respect to religion, the members should oe neither ‘ noted
for superstitious blindness one way,’ nor ‘ for their turbulent
humours ’ on the other. No bankrupts or outlaws were to be
chosen ; and all elections were to be freely and openly made.
I'hus far no great harm was done. But the remainder of the
proclamation, which owed its origin to the advice of the
Chancellor, was sure to rouse the most violent opposition.
The King ordered that all returns should be made into
Chancery, w'here, if any ‘ should be found to be made contrary
to the proclamation,’ they were ‘ to be rejected as unlawful and
insufficient’ ^
On March 19 the Parliament met Men felt that a crisis
was at hand. Never had so many members attended in their
Parliament pl^ces.^ They came not without hopes that they
meets. would not return home until they had been allow'ed
to sweep aw^ay at least some of the grievances of which they
complained.
Since the last Parliament had met, one change had taken
place which distinctly marked the altered relations which were
to subsist betw'een the Crowm and the House of Commons.
Elizabeth had alw^ays taken care that at least one of her
principal statesmen should occupy a place amongst the repre-
sentatives of the people. During the latter years of her reign
this duty had devolved upon Cecil. The Secretary w^as now
removed to the House of Lords, and he left none but
second-rate officials behind him. With the exception of Sir
John Herbert, the second, or, as w^e should say, the Under-
secretary, a man of very ordinary abilities, not a single Privy
Councillor had a seat in the House. Sir Julius Caesar, Sir
Thomas Fleming, Sir Henry Montague, and a few others who
either held minor offices under Government, or hoped some
day to be promoted to them, w^ere all respectable men, but
^ Pari. Hist. i. 967. There are two sets of notes for the proclamation
in the Egerton Papers^ 384 : one is m Popham’s hand ; the other, founded
on it, in Ellesmere’s. The latter alone contains the directions for the
reference of disputed elections to Chancer}’, shov\ ing that this assumption
originated with him.
In consequence, additional seats were ordered, C.J.i, 14 1.
i64 the FARLIAMENTARY OPPOSITION. CH. tv.
theie was not one of them who was capable of influencing the
House of Commons.
I’here was, however, one man in the House who might have
filled Cecil’s vacant place. At the commencement of this session,
Sir Francis Sir Francis Bacon stood high in the estimation of his
iTsicon. contemporaries. Two boroughs had elected him as
their representative. His fellow-members showed their appre-
ciation of his abilities by entrusting him with the greatest share in
their most weighty business. Scarcely a committee was named
on any matter of importance on which his name did not occur,
and he generally appeared as the reporter, or, as we should say,
the chairman, of*the committee. If a conference w'as to
be held with the House of Lords, he was almost invariably put
forward to take a leading part in the argument. Nor is this
fo be wondered at ; not only were his transcendent abilities
universally recognised, but at this time all his opinions were in
unison with those of the House itself. Toleration in the Church
and reform in the State were the noble objects which he set
before him. If James had been capable of appreciating Bacon’s
genius, the name of the prophet of natural science might have
come down to us as great in politics as it is in philosophy,
d'ho defects in his character would hardly have been known, or,
if they had been known, they wmuld have been lost in the great-
ness of his achievements. For the moment, as far as his parlia-
mentary career was concerned, he was borne onwards on the full
tide of success. Flis errors and his fall were yet to come. It
is true that his conduct at the trial of Essex had shown that he
was not possessed of those finer feelings which might have
saved him from many of his greatest mistakes ; but, excepting
to the friends of Essex himself, that conduct does not seem to
have given offence. Excess of submission to Elizabeth was a
fault to which Englishmen were disposed to be lenient, and the
limits within which public duty ought to overrule private friend-
ship were drawn at a very different line from that which they at
present occupy. Yet with all this, he was a dissatisfied man.
He had now reached the mature age of forty-four, and he had
long been anxious to be in a position from which he might
carry out the great policy which he knew tp be necessary for
i6o4 , THE LEADERS OF THE COMMONS, 165
the w^ll-being of the natioa The new King had looked cddly
upon him. It is sometimes said that his share in the condem-
nation of Essex had told against him. But that James con-
tinued to feel respect for the memory of Essex is, to say the
least of it, very problematical. However this may have been,
there were other obstacles in his path. Bacon always believed
that Cecil was envious of his talents. It is not improbable
that the practical statesman regarded his cousin as a visionary ;
and Cecil had the ear of the King. Bacon retained, indeed,
the title of King’s Counsel, and he drew the salary, such as it
was ; but he was not admitted to any participation in the affairs
of government.
Next to Bacon, no man enjoyed the confidence of the
House more than Sir Edwin Sandys. Without any pretensions
SirEdwn 1^0 Bacon’s genius, he possessed a large fund of
Sandys. common sense. The friend and pupil of Hooker, he
was no Puritan ; but, like so many others amongst his contem-
poraries, he had learned to raise his voice for the toleration of
those with whom he did not wholly agree.
Of the other members, there are few who deserve especial
Nicholas Fuller was there, full of Puritan zeal— a
hasty and, in some respects, an unwise man. Hake-
will too, who in a former Parliament, when the list of
monopolies w^as read, had called out to know if bread
were among them ; Thomas Wentworth, whose father
had suffered for his resistance to arbitrary power in the late
reign ; the two Hydes, and a few others, made up a little knot
of men who would not allow their voices to rest as long as the
grievances of the nation were unredressed.
Through some mistake, the Commons were not present
when the King came down to the House of Lords to open the
Ma'ch22 j3-mes, desirous that they should hear his
The King's views from his own lips, repeated to them the speech
speech. ^y^hich he had already delivered in the Upper House.
He told them that he was unable to thank them sufficiently for
the ready welcome which he had met with on his journey into
England. He had brought with him two gifts, which he Ini.sted
that they would accept in place of many words : one wa5 peace
mention.
FuUer,
Halcewill,
Wentworth,
and the
Hydes.
i66 THE PARLIAMENTARY OPPOSITION. ai iv.
with foreign nations— the other was union with Scotland. To
the Puritans he declared himself decidedly opposed, not because
they differed from him in their opinions, but because of ‘ their
confused form of policy and parity ; being ever discontented
with the present Government, and impatient to suffer any
superiority, which maketh their sect unable to be suffered in
any well-governed commonwealth.' As to the Papists, he had
no desire to persecute them, especially those of the laity who
would be quiet. Since his arrival, he had been anxious to
lighten the burdens of those amongst them who would live
I>eaceably, and he had been looking over the laws against them
in hopes that ‘ some overture ’ might be ‘ proposed to the pre-
sent Parliament for clearing those laws by reason ... in case
they have been in time past further or more rigorously extended
by the judges than the meaning of the law was, or might lead to
the hurt as well of the innocent as of the guilty persons.’ With
respect to the clergy, as long as they maintained the doctrine
that the Pope possessed ‘ an imperial civil power over all Kings
and Emperors,’ and as long as they held that excommunicated
sovereigns might be lawfully assassinated, they should not be
suffered to remain in the kingdom. Although the laity would
be free from persecution they would not be allowed to win over
converts to their religion, lest their numbers should increase so
as to be dangerous to the liberties of the nation and the inde-
pendence of the Crowm. As to the laws which were to be made
in Parliament, he said, “ I will thus far faithfully j^romise unto
you that I wall ever prefer the weal of the body of the whole
Commonwealth, in making of good laws and constitutions, to
any particular or private ends of mine, thinking ever the wealth
and weal of the Commonwealth to be my greatest weal and
worldly felicity— a point wherein a lawful King doth directly
differ from a tyrant ... I do acknowledge . , . that whereas
the proud and ambitious tyrant doth think his kingdom and
people are only ordained for the satisfaction of his desires and
unreasonable appetites, the righteous and just King doth by
contrary acknowledge himself to be ordained for the procuring
of the wealth and prosperity of his people.” It remained to be
seen how far James’s wisdom could embrace fdl the wants of his
i6o4 CASES OF S MERLE Y AND GOODWIN. 167
people, and how far his temper could stand under the annoy-
ances to which he would be subjected as soon as they ventured
to oppose him.
Some time was to elapse before the Commons were able to
devote their attention to those important questions relating to
the Catholics and the Puritans on which James had expressed a
decided opinion.
Upon their return to their own House two cases of privilege
came before their notice. One of these brought up the old
^ ^ question of the freedom of members from arrest,
case 5 ^* though in the present case it was complicated by a
privilege. fuj-thej. question as whether such a privilege ex-
tended to them before the day of the meeting of Parliament. Sir
March i Thoiiias Sherlcy, the member for Steyning, had been,
after his election, lodged in the Fleet, at the suit of a
City tradesman. The House claimed his presence as a member,
and he took his seat on May 15. This success, how-
ever, was not obtained without much difficulty. It
was not until the Warden of the Pleet had been committed not
only to the Tower, but to the dungeon known by the expressive
name of little Ease, and the intervention of the King himself
had been obtained, that he consented to liberate the prisoner.
It is gratifying to know that the filthy condition in which the
dungeon was found was excused to the House on the ground
that it had not been used for many years. ^
The other case was of much greater importance, as it at once
brought the House, in spite of itself, into collision with the
Goodwin’s Crown. Sir Francis Goodwin had been elected for
Buckinghamshire, where he owed his seat to the votes
of the smaller freeholders, his opponent, Sir John Fortescue, a
Privy Councillor, having been supported by the gentry of the
country. In accordance with the King’s proclamation, the Court
of Chancery had declared the election void, on the ground that
Goodwin was an outlaw; and upon a second election, For-
tescue had been chosen to the place which was thus supposed
to be vacant. On the day after the matter had been moved
* C. J, passim from March 22 to May 22, i. 149-222.
i68 THE PARLIAMENTARY OPPOSITION, ch, iv.
in the House, Goodwin was summoned to the bar, and, aa
soon as his case had been heard, he was ordered to take his
seat
A few days afterwards the I.ords sent a message to the
Commons, asking for information on the subject At first the
Commons refused to grant their request, as being un-
constitutional ; but, upon a second message, inform-
ing them that the demand had been made at the King's desire,
they agreed to a conference in order to justify themselves. In
this conference they stated that, from the omission of certain
technicalities in the proceedings taken against him, Goodwin
was not an outlaw in the eye of the law ; and that, even if he
were, they could produce instances in wdfich outlaws had taken
their seats in the House. 'I'he King, in replying to them, took
the whole affair out of the region of forms and precedents, and
raised a question of constitutional law, which w'as a
matter of life or death to the Commons. “ He had no
prSgw pt^rpose,” he told them, “to impeach their privilege,
Commons derived all matters of privilege from
him, and by his grant, he expected that they should
not be turned against him, ... By the law, the House ought
not to meddle with returns, being all made into Chancery, and
are to be corrected or reformed by that court only into which
they were returned.” He then proceeded to argue against their
assertion that an outlaw' could take his seat, and advised them
to debate the question and to confer with the judges.
As soon as these expressions were reported to the House,
the members knew that it was impossible for them to give way,
March 2 Whatever might be the advantages of bringing (fues-
tions of disputed elections before a regular and im-
partial tribunal (if such a one could be found), they knew that
to yield the point to the King was equivalent to abdicating their
independent position for ever. Without any settled design,
James had simply proposed to make it possible for himself, or
for a future sovereign, to convert the House of Commons into
a board of nominees.
It is impossible to refrain from admiring the prudence of the
House in this difficulty. Mainly under Bacon’s guidance they
i 6 c 4 returns to BE JUDGED BY THE HOUSE. 169
threw aside all unimportant parts of the question, and restricted
their opposition to the main point They appointed
Commons a Committee to draw up a reply to the King, and,
at the same time, brought in a Bill to disable out-
laws from sitting in Parliament for the future.
On April 3 the Committee, with Bacon at its head, carried
up the answer of the Commons to the Upper House, and
requested that it might be laid before the King.
They show'ed that they had always decided in cases
of disputed election, and they denied that they had come pre-
cipitately to a conclusion in the present instance. They refused
to confer with the judges.-
Two days after this the King informed them that he had as
great a desire to maintain their privileges as ever any prince
^ had, or as they had themselves. He had seen and
considered of the manner and the matter, he had
heard his judges and council, and he was now distracted in
judgment ; therefore, for his further satisfaction, he desired and
commanded, as an absolute king, that there might be a confer-
ence between the House and the judges, in the presence of his
council, who would make a report to him.
The Commons again gave way on the point of etiquette.
There were signs that it was only thus that they could secure
unanimity. Some of the members were frightened at James’s
tone. “The Prince’s command,” said Yelverton, “is like a
thunderbolt ; his command upon our allegiance is like the
roaring of a lion.”
This discussion with the judges, however, never took place.
James acknowledged to the committee which had drawn up
of the House, that it was the proper judge
promise, retums. But he asked the Commons, as a
personal favour, to set aside both the parties, and to issue a
writ for a new election. It is no disparagement to them that
they gave w’-ay once more. They could not suffer a great cause
to be wrecked upon a question of etiquette. It was well
known that Goodwin was not anxious to retain his seat. He
had- even attempted, at the election, to induce the electors to
transfer their votes to Fortescue. To satisfy those members
70
THE PARLIAMEErrARV OPPOSITION. CH. iv.
i'ho were reasonably jealous of compromising the dignity of
he House, a letter was obtained from Goodwin, declaring his
eadiness to submit to the arrangement.'
That the substantial advantage remained with the Commons
s evident from the fact that they proceeded, without opposi-
ion, to investigate two other cases of disputed election. Both
he King and the House had come with credit out of the con-
joversy. Unhappily it did not follow that a similar spirit of
:omproraise would be shown when questions arose which in
rolved a difference of principle.
Meanwhile, neither House had been idle. The Commons,
especially, were bent on doing worL Questions of reform,
Urievances which had been left untouched during the life of
JJ'qSed Elizabeth, were now ripe for solution. All had felt
ledrebs. the indcUcacy of pressing her for changes which she
would have considered to be injurious to her rights. She had
served England well enough to be humoured in her old age.
But that obstacle having been removed, the representatives of
the people approached these questions in no disloyal or
revolutionary spirit. They did not force their demands upon
James because he was weaker than his predecessor. If he
had been the wisest and ablest of rulers, they would still have
asked him to make the redress of grievances the first act of his
reign. '
One of the first steps taken by the Government was to
introduce a Bill recognising James’s title to the throne, in order,
March 29. by acknowledging the principle of hereditary right,
S''"® ^ claims which might be
title. put forward by the representatives of the Suffolk line.
As a proof of loyalty, the Bill was hurried through both Houses
with all possible expedition. It was read for the first time in
the House of Lords on March 26, and on the 29th it had
reached a third reading in the Commons.
On the same day as that on which this Bill was brought in,
Cecil moved for a conference with the Lower House on the
subject of the abuses of Purveyance. During the discussion
^ C. y. i. 140^169; Pari. HisHi. 998.1017 ; Bacon’s Letters and
Lifi, iu. 164.
P[/RP^£VAM'E.
1604
17 1
in the House of Lords on this motion, a message was brought
up from the Commons asking for a conference, in order that
March 26. a petition might be drawn up upon the subject of
rnd\vrrd'-* Wardship. The feudal system was dead, and its
ship. relics were cumbering the ground. The abuses of Pur-
veyance had come down from the days of the first Norman
sovereigns. When each little district was self-supporting, the
arrival of the King’s court must have seemed like the invasion
of a hostile army. Even if the provisions consumed had
been paid for, the inhabitants would have had much diffi-
culty in replacing their loss. But it frequently happened that
they were taken without any payment at all. The time came,
at last, when other powers made themselves heard than that
of the sword ; and when the representatives of the towns
joined the knights and barons in Parliament, this was one
of the first grievances of which they complained. Session
after session new remedies were assented to by the King, and
statutes were passed with a frequency which gives too much
reason to suspect that they were broken as soon as made. At
first the Commons contented themselves with asking that pur-
veyors should be prohibited from appropriating to their own
use money which they had received from the Exchequer
for the acquittal of debts contracted in the performance of
their duty.^ Twenty-two years later they had risen in their
demands, and obtained an assurance that nothing should be
taken without the assent of the owner.® In the reign of
Edward III. various statutes were made upon the subject.
At one time the King promised that nothing should be taken
without the owner’s assent,^ At other times he agreed that
the purchases were to be appraised by the constable and four
discreet men of the neighbourhood.'* Purveyors who gave less
than the price fixed were to be arrested by the town, to be put
in gaol, and, upon conviction, to be dealt with as common
' 3 Ed. I. stat. West, i, cap, 32.
* 25 Ed. I. stat, de Tallagio, cap. 2.
s 14 Ed. 111. stat. I, cap. 19.
* 4 Ed. III. cap. 3; 5 Ed. III. cap. 2; 25 Ed. III. cap, i ; 36
Ed. III. cap. 2.
172 TB£ FARLIAMEjXTARY OPPOSITION. CH. iv.
thieves. In the reign of Henry VL it was even declared that
all persons had a right of openly resisting the offenders.
In spite of these, and many other similar statutes, the
grievances complained of still continued unabated. The
Bill brpurht Commons drew up a Bill declaring the illegality of
Kbuis of abuses, but, at the same time, that there might
purveyors, CO m plaint against their proceedings, they pre-
PethionTo ^ petition in which they proposed to lay their
the King, case before the King. They assured him that they
had no wish to infringe upon his rights, but the grievances of
which they complained had been declared to be illegal by no
less than thirty-six statutes. They alleged that the cart-takers,
whose business it was to find carriage for the King’s baggage
whenever he moved, were guilty of the grossest abuses in
order to put money into their own pockets. They would often
order the owners of eight or nine hundred carts to send them
in, when two hundred would be sufficient. By this means they
hoped that bribes would be offered them by the owners, who
would all be anxious to obtain their discharge. Those who
were unable or unwilling to pay were often detained for a week
before they were allowed to go. Twopence a mile was allowed
to those actually employed, which was calculated upon the
distance which they had travelled to the place of loading,
whilst nothing at all was given for their actual service, or for
the return journe)^ After some hundreds of persons had
bribed the officers for exemption, the remainder of the inhabi-
tants of the county were required to make up the full number
of carts. What was worse still, the cart-takers were frequently
in the habit of selecting tired horses, in the expectation that
the owners would be ready to pay money to let them go.
The purveyors themselves were, quite as bad. Instead of
paying for goods according to the appraisement, they were
accustomed to call in strarigers of their own choice to make a
second valuation, and often forced upon the owners a mere
ftaqfion o-^, the sum > really due. They frequently refused to
pay in ready money,; apd they committed to prison the con-
stables who assi^^ stood out against thHf illegal
proceedings,' Tn thei^tk of the prohibition of the law, they
i6o4
PURVEYANCE.
m
would cut down the trees round a country gentleman’s mansion.
Even justices of the peace had been imprisoned for hearing
cases against purveyors, although the law expressly required
them to take cognisance of such matters.^
James answered that he was desirous to remove all causes
of complaint ; but that he believed arrangements had been
The King’s by which such cases could not possibly recur,
answer. wishcd, howcver, that the Commons would confer
with the Council on the matter. Some of the officers of the
household, who were standing by, declared that all com-
plaints were invariably listened to, and that justice was always
done.
A few days after this interview, another attempt was made
tn obtain the co-operation of the Lords. It is characteristic of
g the different spirit which prevailed in the two Houses,
Opinion of that the Lords proposed a Sunday as the best day
the* Lords.. Conference.^ The Commons requested them
to fix upon some other day, as they w'ere determined not to do
any business on the Sabbath. With respect to the proposed
measure, the Lords showed no mercy to the purveyors, whom
they spoke of as harpies. But on a most important point there
was a wide difference of opinion. The Commons held that, as
the abuses of which they complained were illegal, the King
was not in a position to ask for compensation for abandoning
them. The Lords knew that the King’s expenses far surpassed
his receipts. They questioned whether the King could afford
to remit anything to his subjects at present, and they proposed
an annual grant of 50,000/. in lieu of purveyance. In defence
of this suggestion they took up the unlucky ground that, as
there were many penal laws which the King did not press, he
had a right to look to his people for some indulgence in return.
In other words, the King and the nation were to regard one
another as parties to a bargain ; the loss of the one was to be
the gain of the other. This error was destined to be the lead-
ing idea of the Kings of England through more than eighty
* C. y. i. 190 ; Bacon’s Letters and Life^ iii. i8r.
® At this time Sunday was the day upon which a meeting of the Privy
Council was always held after service.
174
THE PARLIAMENTARY OPPOSITION cn. iv
weary yeais. They never could comprehend that, if the interests
of the Sovereign were really distinct from the interests of the
nation, one of the two must give way, and that such a strife
could only end in their own ruin. ^
Upon this the Commons summoned the officers of the
Board of Green Cloth, who presided over the whole system, to
give evidence. The answers given by these men are curious,
as showing the lengths to which official persons will sometimes
go. They raked up obsolete statutes to justify the grossest
abuses. They asserted their right to exercise the most tyranni-
cal power ; and, whenever any charge was made against them
for which even they found it impossible to invent an excuse, they
boldly denied the facts. The opposition which the Commons
met with in the matter of their efforts to deal with purveyance,
was only equalled by the opposition which they met with in the
Court of Wards.
In dealing with the question of purveyance, the House had,
at least at first, been contented with lopping off the abuses ;
March, but with Wardship the case was different. The
ScoiiTo? system was one huge abuse. But, whatever it
Wards. was, it was strictly legal. It was a system by which
every King of England had profited since the days of the Con-
queror. There was therefore no mention of proceeding by
Bill, but the Lords were asked to join in petitioning the King
for leave to treat with him on the subject. The King’s prero-
gative was unquestioned ; but it was hoped that he would yield
his rights in consideration of the grant of a large and certain
yearly revenue. The system itself might have had some show
of reason to support it in the days when feudality was still in
vigour. Sovereignty brings with it, even in our own times,
obligations which in some cases interfere with personal and
domestic liberty ; and, in the Middle Ages, every man who had
a place in the feudal hierarchy was in some respects a sovereign.
The ownership of land carried with it the title to command a
greater or less number of men ; it was, therefore, only natural
that when the owner was a minor, and, in consequence, was
C. y. i, 204 ; L, y, ii. 294.
i6o4
WARDSHIP.
175
tinable to take his place at the head of his vassals, the lord
should take the land into his uwn hands, and should receive
the profits, as long as there was no one to perform the
duties attached to the tenure. For similar reasons, it was not
repugnant to the feelings of the age, that where the heir was a
female, the lord should take an interest in the disposal of her
hand, and should claim a right to select the husband who was
in future to have at his command the vassals of the heiress in
question ^ If the colonelcies of regiments were heritable pro-
perty, similar regulations might be found necessary even in the
nineteenth century.
This right not being confined to the Sovereign, but being
shared in by all who had vassals depending upon them, the
lords were by no means eager, as long as the feudal system
really lasted, to exclaim against it The evils against which
the Great Charter provided were abuses with which the system
itself had become encrusted. Gradually, however, the old
theory sunk into oblivion, and the King’s claims upon wards
dwindled into a mere machinery for bringing in money in
a most oppressive manner. Men were dissatisfied with the
thought that it was possible that, at their death, their lands
might undergo a temporary confiscation, and with the know-
ledge that their daughters might have to bribe some courtier
in order to escape from an obnoxious marriage. When the
feudal militia ceased to be the army of the nation, every
reason for the maintenance of the Court of Wards came to
an end. The legal right remained, but the duties with which
it was, in theory, connected, had long ago ceased to be
performed.
March 26. This being the state of opinion on the subject,
cOTcwTnl Lords readily concurred with the Commons in
?hesubjSt desiring relief.^ It was not till May 26 that the
of wardship, Commons brought forward a definite proposal. They
oflered to raise a revenue which would be larger than any that
’ The lo''i 3 s claimed the right of the marriage of even male heirr,, b*jt it
Is difficult to see on what principle.
* C. 7 . i. 153.
176 THE PARLIAMENTARY OPPOSITION. CH. iv.
the King Imd ever obtained from the Court of Wards, and to
grant pensions to the officers of the Court for the remainder of
their lives. They were not precipitate in their measures. All
that they asked for was a general approbation on the King's
part. If they obtained this, they would appoint commis-
May 26. sioners who should during the recess inquire into the
Proposal proportion of the burden borne by different counties
Commons, and individuals, in order that, in the course of the
next session, arrangements might be made for offering a suffi-
cient composition to the King and also to those subjects who
possessed a similar right over their tenants.
At a conference between the Houses held on May 26,^ the
Lords, under the influence of the Court, threw cold water on
even this moderate scheme. They expressed doubts
throw cold whether it would be possible to raise a sufficient
water on it. blamed the Commons for wasting time
over questions of privilege and purveyance, though this latter
point had been first moved in their own house. They recom-
mended that the question of Wardships should be dropped
Mays©, till the next session. Four days later the King
Sdfthe summoned the Commons into his presence and
Commons?, censured their proceedings bitterly.
James, in fact, was thoroughly dissatisfied at their slow
progress in a matter on which he had set his heart. At the
April 13 subject
The pro- _ of the Buckinghamshire election, he pressed them
wkhSajT” to take in hand his favourite measure for a union
with Scotland. He wished, as he told them, to
leave at his death ‘ one worship of God, one kingdom entirely
governed, one uniformity of law.’* He saw the advantages
which would accrue to both countries from a complete union,
and longed to anticipate the fruits which would eventually
spring from the carrying out of his project.® His constitutional
* L. y. ii. 309 ; C. y. i. 230.
* c. y. i. 171.
* The charge, that he wished for the Union in order to be able to
gratify his Scotch favourites, can only be made by those who forget that
he had it in his power to make any foreigner a denizen, and thus to enable
i6o4 proposed UNION WITH SCOTLAND. r/7
impatience made him anxious that the work should be accom-
plished by his own hands. His ignorance of human nature
Drought him speedily into collision with his subjects on this
point. It had not been for want of warning : Cecil, as usual,
had given him good advice. He told him that the two nations
were not ripe for a union as long as they continued to look
upon one another with hostile eyes. In process of time, such a
measure would be heartily welcomed. All that could now be
done was to appoint commissioners on either side, who might
discuss the whole question, and determine how far it was
practicable to remove the barriers by which the two nations
were separated.^ It was all in vain ; James was in such haste
to see a marriage between the kingdoms, that he would not
allow time for the preliminary courtship.
The disposition of the House of Commons was at once tested
by the proposal that they should immediately agree to James’s
April 14. assumption of the title of King of Great Britain.
Proposed They felt that in this, which was apparently a mere
of Great Verbal question, the most important consequences
Lntam. involved. Bacon expressed the whole difficulty
in a few words, when he asked, “ By what laws shall this Britain
be governed ? ” In those days of undefined prerogative, it w^as
■impossible to say what claims might not be raised : James
might attempt to amalgamate the legislatures by proclamation,
, or he might fill the public offices of State with his
Objected to ° . , , . , , , -
by the countrymen, without leaving any legal ground of re-
ommons. 2 Commons therefore thought that there
should be some agreement as to the terms of the union before
him to hold lands granted by the Crown, and that his chief favourites were
naturalised by Act of Parliament in this session.
‘ Cecil begged the King to postpone the Union, and ‘seulement
dasseiphler des commissaires deputes et choisis d’une part et d’autre k fin
de comparer et accorder des moiens de la bien faire, et cependant donner
loisir aux peuples de se banter, et se Her doucement par marriages.' —
Beaumont to the King, Feb. ^ 1604. King's MSS. 125, fol. 29.
- It must not be forgotten that the subsequent naturalisation of the
Postnati was carried through by the legal technicalities of the lawyers,
in defiance of the wish of the House of Commons.
!7S THE PARLIAMENTARY OPPOSITION cii. iv.
it was ratified by the assumption of a title. The King gave
way courteously at first, but he soon grew vexed and angrv.
Cecil must have felt his triumph when the project of a change
of name was abandoned, and the King consented to the ap-
pointment of such a commission as his prudent Secretary had
recommended. A Bill was brought in, naming twenty-eight
commissioners, who were taken equally from the two Houses,
to confer with a similar body appointed by the Scots ; and it
was understood that Parliament was to meet again in the fol-
lowing year, in order to receive their report.
It was hardly possible that James should retain his good
humour. In this matter of the Union, the Commons must
have appeared to him as narrow’-minded pedants.
The Com. eager to raise paltry objections to a magnificent act
of statesmanship which they were unable to compre-
ill-humour was aggravated by the course
taken by the Commons with regard to ecclesiastical
““ ‘ affairs. He had decided against the Puritans, and it
was commonly said that three parts of the House were Puritans.^
If so, they were Puritans of a very different stamp from those
who, after nearly forty years of arbitrary government, filled
many of the benches of the Long Parliament. They committed
to the Tower a man who presented a petition in which the
Bishops were described as antichrists. They would have been
ready to assent to any guarantees which the King might think
necessary for maintaining his supremacy in the Church, as well
as in the State ; but they took a truer view of ecclesiastical
questions than James or his bishops were able to take, and they
saw that unless concessions were made, all vitality would quickly
depart from the Church. If differences were not allowed to exist
within, they would break out elsewhere. Little as they thought
what the consequences of their acts would be, Elizabeth and
\^hitgift, James and Bancroft, by making a schism inevitable,
were the true fathers of Protestant dissent.
Perhaps such a schism was sooner or later unavoidable, but,
If the Commons had been allowed to carry out their views, it
* S:r R. "Wingfield’s account of his speech, i*. P. Doni* vu. a.
CHURCH REFORM.
might have been long delayed. The moral earnestness of
Puritanism would not have been embittered by a long struggle
for existence. It would have escaped the worst trial which re-
ligion knows— the trial of political success. Men like Baxter,
and men like Jeremy Taylor, would have laboured together as
brethren in one common faith ; truth and godliness would have
worked their way insensibly, quietly influencing the whole social
fabric in their course. But these are visions ; the sad reality
presents us with a very different picture.
On x\pril 1 6, Sir Francis Hastings moved for a committee,
April i6. to consider ‘ of the confirmation and re-establishing
of the religion now established within this kingdom ;
Si? 4 iasticai Settling, increasing, and maintaining a
matters. learned ministry, and of whatsoever else may inci-
dentally bring furtherance thereunto.’
The King immediately sent to request that the House,
They refuse before entering upon such matters, would confer
wiSconvo- Convocation. The Commons, always jealous
cation. of body, Sent a distinct refusal, though they
expressed their readiness to treat with the Bishops as Lords of
Parliament.
They accordingly empowered the committee to propose to
the Lords that, in accordance with the Act of 13 Elizabeth,
May s. ministers should be required to subscribe to those
Proposals articles only which related to doctrine and the sacra-
sent to the ■'
Lords. ments, and that all persons hereafter admitted to the
ministry should be at least Bachelors of Arts, and should have
the testimony of the University to their moral conduct and
ability to preach. If, however, anyone was desirous of ordina-
tion who had not studied at either of the Universities, a similar
testimonial from six preachers of his own county w'as to be suf-
ficient. They asked that no more dispensations might be
granted for pluralities and non-residence, and hoped that some
augmentation might be afforded to small livings of less than the
annual value of 20/. Lastly, they begged the Lords to join
them in putting a stop to the deprivation of men who objected
only to the use of the surplice and of the cross in baptism,
‘ which,’ as they said, almost in the very words of Bacon,
l8o THE PARLIAMENTARY OPPOSITION. CH ly.
indeed, he were not himself the framer of these proposals,
‘turneth to the punishment of the people.’ ^
Finding the Lords but lukewarm in the cause, they brought
in two Bills in their own House — one directed against pluralists,
Bills brought of which we have no particulars, and the other pro
in the Hwse aiding for a learned and godly ministry, embodying
of Lords. the opinions which they had expressed in their con-
ference with the other House, but adding a clause which must
have been a terror to all unfit expectants of benefices. It was
to be enacted that, if any person were afterwards inducted
without the testimonials required, the parishioners might law-
fully withhold from him the payment of tithes. It is needless
to say that both Bills fell through in the Lords.
The condition of business in the House of Commons was
therefore by no means satisfactory, when on May 30 the King
May 30, addressed them in terms of disparagement on the
bSnSki subject Sore as they were at the language in which
be spoke, they resolved to show him by their actions
June I, that they were not to blame. On June i they deter-
SndonS. mined to abandon the subject of wardships till the
^^junea. following session, and on June 2 they came to a
for naming Similar resolution on the subject of purveyance. At
Ae”' the same time the Bill naming commissioners to tieat
pSS. ^f the Union was hurried through the House, and
June 5. sent up to the Lords. James was gratified with the
tSks the of his expressions of displeasure, and sent a
Commons, message to the Commons, thanking them for w’hat
they had done.*^
The Commons, on their part, naturally desired to justify
June 20. themselves. During the next fortnight they,, were
The^Apoiogy employed in drawing up an Apology for their
Commons, proceedings, and on June 20 it was completed and
read in the House.
The Commons, in whose name it was drawn up, began by
explaining that they were under a necessity of justifying their
® S, P, Dm. viii, 66.
’ C. % i. 230-232.
. i. 199.
i6o4 the apology OF THE COMMONS.
conduct They acknowledged that the King was a prince
eminent for wisdom and understanding, yet as it was impossible
Its pre- for any man, however wise, to understand at a glance
amble. customs of a whole people, he had necessarily been
dependent upon others for information. They were sorry to find
that he had been grievously misinformed, both with respect to
the condition of the people and the privileges of Parliament,
They thought it better, therefore, to speak out, and not to leave
these misunderstandings as seeds for future troubles.
They had, first, to defend themselves against an insinuation
which had been made by one of the Lords, that they had wel-
corned the Kingrather from fear of the consequences
received the which would have ensued upon rejecting him, than
King with , , T • 1 1 1 ^ /• ° rm
expectations from any love which they bore to his person. They
0 re onn. pj-Qtested their loyalty to him, and assured him that
they had looked forward to his reign with hopefulness, as
expecting that under him religion, peace, and justice would
flourish, and that ‘some moderate ease’ would be afforded
‘ of those burdens and sore oppressions under which the whole
land did groan.’ Remembering ‘ what great alienation of men’s
hearts the defeating of good hopes doth usually breed,’ they
could not do better than set forth the grievances which were
universally felt.
The misinformation delivered to the King consisted of
three points— first, that they held ‘not’ their ‘privileges as of
Three points ^ ^ Secondly, that they ‘ were no court of record,
on which the nor yet a court that can command view of records ; ’
Sfmis. and lastly, that the examination of the returns of
mformed. knights and burgesses is without ‘their com-
pass, and due to the Chancery.’
“ From these misinformed positions, Most Gracious Sove-
reign,” they proceeded to say, “ the greatest part of our troubles,
distrust, and jealousy have arisen, having apparently^ found
that in this first Parliament of the happy reign of your Majesty,
the privileges of our House, and therein the liberties and sta-
bility of the whole Kingdom, hath been more universally and
* Here and always ‘apparently’ means ‘plainly.’
m THE PARLIAMENTARY OPPOSITION CH. iv.
dangerously impugned than ever, as we suppose, since the
beginning of Parliaments. For although it may be true that,
in the latter times of Queen Elizabeth, some one privilege, now
and then, were by some particular act attempted against, yet
was not the same ever by so public speech, nor by positions
in general, denounced against our privileges. Besides that in
regard of her sex and age, which we had great cause to tender,
and much more upon care to avoid all trouble which by wicked
practice might have been drawn to impeach the quiet of your
Majesty’s right in the succession, those actions were then passed
over which we hoped, in succeeding times of freer access to
your Highness’ so renowned grace and justice, to redress, re-
store, and rectify ; whereas, contrarywise, in this Parliament
which your Majesty in great grace, as we nothing doubt, in-
tended to be a precedent for all Parliaments that should succeed,
clean contrary to your Majesty’s so gracious desire, by reason
of those misinformations, not only privileges, but the whole
freedom of the Parliament and realm, hath from time to time,
on all occasions, been mainly hewed at”
They then came to particulars. Doubts had been thrown
upon the liberty of election. ‘ The freedom of ’ their ‘ speech ’
Particular ‘ prejudiced by often reproof,’ the Bishop
complaints, Bristol had written a book in which they had been
reviled.^ Some of the clergy had been preaching against them,
and had even published their protestations against the un-
doubted right of the House to deal with ecclesiastical affairs.
‘What cause ’they had ‘to watch over their privileges,’ was
‘manifest in itself to all men. The prerogatives of princes’
were daily growing ; ‘ the privileges of subjects ’ were ‘ for the
most part at an everlasting stand.’ They might ‘ be by good
providence and care preserved, but, being once lost,’ they were
not to be ‘recovered but with much disquiet. If good kings
were immortal,’ they might be less careful about their privileges.
But a day might come when a hypocrite and a tyrant might sit
* On the complaint of the Commons he was compelled to ask pardon.
He had undertaken to refute arguments used in the House of Commons—
a high offence before debates were published, as the attacked party might
be misrepresented, -ind had no opportunity of reply.
i6c4 the apology OF THE COMMONS. 183
upon the throne, and it was therefore their bounden duty to
provide for posterity.
They had heard that particular speeches had been raisre-
ported to the King ; they hoped, theiefore, that he would allow
those members whose words had been misrepresented to justify
themselves in the presence of their accusers.
After offering a defence of their conduct in the cases of the
Buckinghamshire election, of Sir Thomas Sherley’s imprison-
ment, and of the Bishop of Bristol’s book, they touched upon
the thorny subject of the Union.
“The proposition,” they said, “was new, the importance
great, the consequence far-reaching, and not discovered but by
Their con- lo^ig dispute. Our number also is laige, and which
hath free liberty to speak ; but the doubts and difh-
Union culties once cleared and removed, how far we were
from opposing the just desires of your Majesty (as some evil-
disposed minds would perhaps insinuate, who live by division,
and prosper by the disgrace of other men) the great expedition,
alacrity, and unanimity which was used and showed in passing
of the Bill may sufficiently testify.”
Having thus got over this difficulty, perhaps by making *
more of their own readiness to meet the King’s wishes than the
facts of the case would justify, they proceeded to a still more
important subject
“For matter of religion,” they said, “it will appear, by exami-
nation of the truth and right, that your Majesty should be mis-
and matters informed if any man should deliver ^ that the Kings
af religion, Eiigjand have any absolute power in themselves
either to alter religion, (which God forefend should be in the
power of any mortal man whatsoever), or to make any laws con-
cerning the same, otherwise than in temporal causes by consent
of Parliament We have and shall at all times by our oaths
acknowledge that your Majesty is sovereign lord and supreme
' This must refer to the Canons which were passed through Convo-
cation in this session. In an anonymous paper [S. P. Dom. vi. 46) en-
titled Substance of the Doctrine of the Chzirch of England on the King's
Supremacy, it is expressly stated that the King had the right to confirm
ecclesiastical canons and to give them the force of laws.
iS4 THE PARLIAMENTARY OPPOSITION, CH. iv,
governor in Doth. Touching our own desires and proceedings
therein, they have been not a little misconceived and misin-
terpreted. We have not come in any Puritan or Brownist spirit
to introduce their parity, or to work the subversion of the State
ecclesiastical as now it stands, things so far and so clear from
our meaning as that, with uniform consent, in the beginning of
this Parliament we committed to the Tower a man who out of
that humour had, in a petition exhibited to our House, slan-
dered the Bishops; but according to the tenor of your Majesty’s
writs of summons directed to the counties from which we came,
and according to the ancient and long continued use of Par-
liaments, as by many records from time to time appeareth, we
came with another spirit, even with the spirit of peace; we
disputed not of matters of faith and doctrine, our desire was
peace only, and our device of unity, how this lamentable and
long-lasting dissension amongst the ministers (from which both
atheism, sects, and ill-life have received such encouragement,
and so dangerous increase) might at length, before help come
too late, be extinguished. And for the ways of this peace we
are not addicted at all to our own inventions, but ready to
embrace any fit way that may be offered. Neither desire we so
much that any man, in regard of weakness of conscience, may
be exempted after Parliament from obedience to laws established,
as that in this Parliament such laws may be enacted as by re-
linquishment of. some few ceremonies of small importance, or
by any way better, a perpetual uniformity may be enjoined and
observed. Our desire hath been also to reform certain abuses
crept into the ecclesiastical estate even as into the temporal ;
and, lastly, that the land might be furnished with a learned,
religious, and godly ministry, for the maintenance of 'whom we
would have granted no small contribution, if in these (as we
trust) just and religious desires we had found that corre-
spondency from others which was expected. These minds and
hearts we in secret present to that Sovereign Lord who gave
them, and in public profess to your gracious Majesty, who, we
trust, will so esteem them.”
“There remaineth, dread Sovereign,” they said, in conclu-
sion, after justifying the course which they had taken in the
THE APOLOGY OF TEE COMMONS. 185
matters of wardship and purveyance, “ yet one part more of our
duty at this present which faithfulness of heart (not presumption)
^ , . doth press us to. We stand not in place to speak
CoQcIusion. . ^ ^ ,
or to propose things pleasing. Our care is, and must
be, to confirm the love, and to tie the hearts of your subjects,
the Commons, most firmly to your Majesty. Herein lieth the
means of our well deserving of both. There was never Prince
entered with greater love, with greater joy and applause of all
his people. This love, this joy, let it flourish in their hearts for
ever. Let no suspicion have access to their fearful thoughts
that their privileges, which they think by your Majesty should
be protected, should now by sinister information or counsel be
violated or impaired, or that those who with dutiful respect
to your Majesty speak freely for the right and good of their
country shall be oppressed or disgraced. Let your Majesty be
pleased to receive public information from your Commons in
Parliament, as well of the abuses in the Church as in the Civil
State and Government. For private informations pass often by
practice. The voice of the people, in things of their know-
ledge, is said to be as the voice of God. And if your Majesty
shall vouchsafe at your best pleasure and leisure to enter into
gracious consideration of our petitions for ease of those burdens
under which youi whole people have long time mourned,
hoping for relief by your Majesty, then may you be assured to be
possessed of their hearts for ever, and if of their hearts, then of
all they can do and have. And we your Majesty’s most humble
and loyal subjects, whose ancestors have with great loyalty,
readiness, and joyfulness served your famous progenitors, Kings
and Queens of this realm, shall with like loyalty and joy, both
we and our posterity, serve your Majesty and your most royal
issue for ever with our lives, lands, and goods, and all other our
abilities, and by all means endeavour to procure your Majesty’s
honour with all plenty, tranquillity, joy, and felicity.” ^
Such was the address, manly and freespoken, but conserva-
tive and monarchical to the core, which the House of Commons
was prepared to lay before the King, In it they took up tne
Pari. Hist. i. 1030, and S. P. Dorn. viii. 70.
i86 THE PARLIAMENTAR V OPPOSITION. CK. ?v.
position which they never quitted during eighty-four long and
The Com- storuiy ycars. To understand this Apology is to
understand the causes of the success of the English
ih£" Revolution. They did not ask for anything w^hich
Apology. not in accordance with justice. They did not
demand a single privilege which was not necessary for the good
of the nation as well as for their own dignity.
The Apology thus prepared was never presented to the King,
though there can be little doubt that a copy of it reached his
June 19 , hands. The feeling of d ssatisfaction which the
fiSlSi Commons, in spite of the alacrity whth which they had
difficulties, passed the Union Bill, could not but have felt, they
expressed in another way, which must have been more annoying
to James than the presentation of the Apology could possibly
have been.
' Even with the strictest economy James would have found
much difficulty in bringing his expenditure within the compass
of his revenue. With his habits of profusion, all hope of this
passed rapidly away. He had already incurred debts which
The Com- means of paying. His ministers therefore
gons^ked urged upon the Commons that it would be well to
express their loyalty in a tangible form. I'hey stated,
with perfect truth, that the King was under the necessity of
providing for many extraordinary expenses connected with the
commencement of a reign, and that it was impossible in a
moment to return to a peace expenditure. If the great ques-
tions of the session had received a satisfactory solution, it is
probable that these arguments would have carried their proper
weight. As it was, the Commons remembered opportunely
that a considerable part of the subsidies which had been granted
by the last Parliament of the late Queen had not yet been
No subsidy levied, and that it was contrary to precedent to grant a
granted. subsidy before the last one had been fully paid.
They did not give a direct refusal, but the tone which the debate
assumed was not such as to promise a result favourable to the
Government On hearing this, James, making a virtue of
necessity, wrote a letter to the Commons, in which he informed
them that he was unwilling that they should lay any burden
COMMERCIAL PROGRESS.
i%7
on themselves in order to supply him with money. ^ He
jiin-26 printed, so as to lay
The King’s liis conduct before the public in as honourable a
letter, pOSSiblC.
Doubtless this blow directed against the King had much to
do with the frustration of the hope which the Commons enter-
tained of passing a Bill on a subject of no slight im-
The trading portancc. When James, soon after his arrival in
companies. summoncd the monopolists to show
cause why their patents should not be annulled, he had ex-
pressly excepted the trading corporations. The Commons now
proposed to treat these corporations as monopolists. At this
time the French trade was the only one open to all Englishmen.
By its chartered rights the Russia Company claimed the trade
with Muscovy ; whilst the commerce of the Baltic was in the
hands of the Eastland Company.^ From the Cattegat to the
mouth of the Somme, the merchant adventurers held sway.®
From thence there was a line of free shore till the dominions of
the Spanish King presented what had lately been an enemy’s
coast. Venice and the East were apportioned to the vessels
of the Levant Company. Western Africa had a company of its
own j and beyond the Cape, the continents and islands over
the trade of which the great East India Company claimed a
monopoly, stretched away to the Straits of Magellan, through
three-quarters of the circumference of the globe. In the early
days of the late reign, such associations had served the purpose
of fostering the rising commerce of England. There was not
sufficient capital in the hands of individuals to enable them to
bear the risk of such distant enterprises, nor was the power of
the Government sufficient to guarantee them that protection
which alone could make their risks remunerative. The com-
panies undertook some of the responsibilities which at a later
period were imposed upon the State. They supported ambas-
sadors, and appointed consuls to represent their interests/
* C. J. i. 246. There is a printed copy in the S. P. Dorn. viii. 78.
^ UQ.c'p):itx%0Vk& Annals of Commerce, ii. 164 ® Ibid. 220.
Suggestions for regulating the Levant Trade, Feb, 29, 1604, S. P*
Dorn. vi. 70.
i 85 THE PARLIAMENTAKY OPTOSITION, CE. iv
They were better able than private persons would have been
to discover new outlets for trade. The risk run in making
voyages for the first time to such countries as Russia or India
was so great, that it w^as only fair to compensate for it by the
monopoly of the trade— at least for a limited period. Nor were
the voyages even to friendly ports free from danger. In 1582
the Russia Company had to send out as many as eleven well-
armed ships, for fear of enemies and pirates.
Now, however, the time was favourable for reviewing the
commercial policy of the country. The Levant Company had
surrendered its charter shortly after the King’s accession. Spain
was soon to be thrown open to English commerce. The in-
crease of wealth made many persons desirous of engaging in
trade who were not members of any company ; but, above all,
there was a growing feeling of jealousy against the London
merchants, on the part of the shipowners of the other Dorts. A
native of Plymouth or of Southampton might engage in the
coasting trade, or he might even send his vessel to the other
side of the Channel ; but if he wished to push his fortune
by engaging in commerce on a larger scale, he was at once
checked by learning that the charter of some great Com-
pany, whose members were sure to be Londoners, stood in
his way.
In consequence of the general dissatisfaction with the pri-
vileges of the Companies, appeals were made to the Privy
Council These being without result, the whole case was re-
ferred to Parliament A committee of the Lower
investigates Housc, With Sir Edwin Sandys at its head, took great
pains to arrive at the truth. It devoted five after-
Jfmpani*! investigation of the alleged grievances,
and to the discussion of a Bill for thi owing open
trade.2 Clothiers and merchants from all parts of the realm
attended its sittings in crowds. They complained bitterly that
the existing system was a juggle, by which the whole commerce
of England was thrown into the hands of a few interested
persons. Arguments were heard on boui sides. The free
* C. % i. 218.
FREEDOM OF TRADE,
189
traders urged the natural right of all men to trade \\'here they
would, and reminded the Committee that monopolies were
only of recent invention. They said that at most the members
of the Companies were only five or six thousand in number,
and that of these only four or five hundred were actually
engaged in commerce. They pointed to the success of other
commercial nations where trade was free. They said that in
their policy would be found a remedy for tlie evil which pro-
clamations and Acts of Parliament had striven in vain to cure.
The rapid growth of London in proportion to other towns was
astonishing to that generation. The money received in the
port of London in a single year for customs and impositions
amounted to t 10,000/., whilst the whole sum of the receipts from
the same sources in all the rest of the kingdom was nothing
more than a beggarly 1 7,000/. They trusted that freedom of
trade would be more favourable to the equal distribution of
■wealth. Ships would be built in greater numbers, mariners
would obtain more constant employment, and the Crown
would reap the benefit by an increase of customs. They con-
cluded with a remark characteristic of a people amongst whom
no broad line of demarcation separated the different classes of
the community ; the younger sons of the gentry, they said,
would be thrown out of employment by the cessation of the
war, and therefore an open career should be provided for them
in mercantile pursuits, where alone it could be found.
The force of these arguments was only equalled by the
shallowness of the opposition made to them. It was gravely
urged that no monopoly was granted to any company, because
a right possessed by more than a single person could not pro-
perly be termed a monopoly. It was said that all England
could not produce more than the companies carried abroad ;
that the time of the apprentices would be thrown away if the
existence of the companies were cut 'short. The counsel on
behalf of the monopolists inveighed against the injustice of
putting an end to such useful and flourishing societies. He
was told that there was no intention of abolishing a single
company. The Bill only provided for throwing trade open.
If it were tme, as was asserted, that commerce on a large scale
190 THE PARLIAMENTJRY OPPOSITION. CH. iv.
could not be canied on by private merchants, why this opposi-
tion to the Bill ? The permission to such merchants to engage
in trade would be void of itself, if it was really impossible for
them to enter into competition. Again, it was objected that
the King would never be able to collect the customs. In reply
to this, several merchants offered, in case the Bill passed, to pay
for the farm of the customs a higher sum than the average of
the receipts of the last five years.
When the Bill stood for a third reading, ‘it was three
several days debated, and in the end passed with great consent
and applause of the House, as being for the exceeding benefit
of all the land, scarce forty voices dissenting from them.’
The Bill was sent up to the House of Lords, where counsel
was again heard on both sides. Coke, as Attorney-General,
spoke against it, acknowledging its purpose to be good, but ob-
jecting to certain defects in it. Upon this, on July 6 ,
the Bill was dropped. The Commons expressed
their intention of taking the matter up again in the following
session.^
On the following day the King came down to prorogue
Parliament. After a few words of praise addressed to the
^ House of Lords, he turned to the Commons, pleased
The King’s to find an opportunity of venting upon them his long
speech. pent-up ill-humour,
“ I have more to say of you,” he began, “my masters of the
Lower House, both in regard of former occasions, and now of
His intern- speaker’s speech. It hath been the form of
perate Ian- most kings to give thauks to their people, however
Of some, to use sharp admonish-
ment and reproof. Now, if you expect either great praises or
reproofs out of custom, I will deceive you in both. I will not
thank where I think no thanks due. You would think me base
if I should. It were not Christian ; it were not kingly. I do
not think you, as the body of the realm, undutiful. There
is an old rule, qui benl distinguit henl docet This House
doth not so represent the whole Commons of the realm as the
253 -
i6o4 the kings SPEECH TO THE COMMONS. 191
shadow doth the body, but only representatively. Impossible
it was for them to know all that would be propounded here,
much more all those answers that you would make to all pro-
positions. So as I account not all that to be done by the
Commons of the land which hath been done by you, I will not
thank them for that you have well done, nor blame them for
that you have done ill. T must say this for you, I never heard
nor read that there were so many wise and so many judicious
men in that House generally ; but where many are some must
needs be idle heads, some rash, some busy informers.”
After scolding them for some time longer in the same
flippant strain, he proceeded to compare the reception which
his wishes had met with in England with the obedience which
he had always* found in Scotland He must have counted
largely on the ignorance of his hearers with respect to Scottish
affairs, when he added : — “ In my government by-past in Scot-
land (where I ruled upon men not of the best temper), I was
heard not only as a king, but as a counsellor. Contrary, here
nothing but curiosity, from morning to evening, to find fault
with my propositions. There all things warranted that came
from me. Here all things suspected. ’ He then burst out into
an invective against them for their delays in the matter of the
Union, and for their encouragement of Puritanism. “You
see,” he continued, “in how many things you did not v/ell.
The best apology-maker of you all, for all his eloquence, cannot
make all good. Forsooth, a goodly matter to make apologies,
when no man is by to answer. You have done many things
rashly. I say not yoti meant disloyally. I receive better
comfort in you, and account better to be king of such subjects
than of so many kingdoms. Only I wish you had kept a better
form. I like form as much as matter. It shows respect, and
I expect it, being a king, as well born (suppose I say it) as any
of my progenitors. I wish you would use your liberty with
more modesty in time to come. You must know now that, the
Parliament not sitting, the liberties are not sitting. My justice
shall always sit in the same seat. Justice I will give to all, and
favoui to such as deserve it. In cases of justice, if I should
192 THE PARLIAMEN 1 ARY OPPOSITION. CH. iv.
do you wrong, 1 were no just king ; but in cases of equity, if I
should show favour, except there be obedience, I were no wise
man.”
With this characteristic utterance James brought the rii-st
session of his first Parliament to a close.
^ S. P. D&fK. viii. 93,
193
CHAPTER V.
THE ENFORCEMENT OF CONFORMITY.
T HE discontent which had made itself felt on both sides during
this unhappy session was the more ominous of future strife
Mutual dis- because it did not spring from a mere difference of
S\h?King opi^^ion 0^^ 2 .ny single question. There was between
HouseV King and the House of Commons the most
Commons, fruitful sourcc of Strife — a complete lack of sympathy.
The Commons could not enter into James’s eagerness to bring
about a union with Scotland, or his desire to tolerate the
Catholics, and James could not enter into their eagerness to
relieve themselves from ill-adjusted financial burdens, or to
relax the obligations of conformity. James, unhappily, lived
apart from his people. He had his chosen counsellors and
his chosen companions, but he did not make himself familiar
with the average thought of the average Englishman. When
their ideas, sometimes wiser, sometimes less wise, than his own,
were forced upon him, he had nothing but contempt to pour
upon them. In his public speeches as well as in his private
letters the thought was often lost in a flow of words, and the
arrogance with which he took it for granted that he was solely
in the right repelled inquiry into the argument which his lengthy
paragraphs concealed
The first difference between the King and the House — that
^ , arising from Goodwin’s election— had been easily
Causes of , , , t it . .
settled, because James had no personal interest in
the matter. When it came to the reform of purveyance
and the abolition of wardship his owm necessities made him
VOL. L O
194 THE ENFORCEMENT OF CONFORMITY. CH.
anxious not to be left in a worse case than that in which he had
been in before, whilst the Commons, who had hitherto been
kept in ignorance of the amount of the revenue and expenditure
of the Crown, were unaware how great those necessities were.
James, indeed, was ready enough to redress such grievances as
were brought home to him. Unfortunately more than that was
needed. If James was to rule as Elizabeth had ruled, it was
necessary that he should sympathise with his subjects as she
had done. He must not be content to let them work out
reforms, leaving to them the responsibility of directing their
energies so as not to interfere with his wants. He must
himself take the reforms in hand, and must so conduct them
as to guide his subjects patiently on the way in which they
wished to go. It was exactly what he was unable to do. Nor
was he likely to find in Cecil anything but a hindrance. For
Cecil, with all his practical capacity, was a man of the past
age, who had had no experience as an independent member
of the House of Commons, and who was more likely to throw
difficulties in the way of the demands of the reformers than to
consider how they could be carried into effect with the least
prejudice to the State. On the still more important question
raised by the Commons on the subject of Puritanism, he was
too deeply imbued with the principles of the late reign to
give good counsel
The one man who could have guided James safely through
the quicksands was Bacon. He had all the qualities of a recon-
Bacoa as a Statesman. He sympathized with the Commons
possible re- in their wish for reforms and in their desire for a morfe
conciler. , i .. . , , _ .
tolerant dealing with the Puritans. He sympathized
with the King in his wish to carry out the Union. Above
all, whilst he was the most popular member of the House,
he had the highest ideas of the King’s prerogative, because
he saw in it an instrument for good, if only James could
be persuaded to guide his people, and not to bargain with
them.
During his whole life Bacon continued to regard Cecil as
the man who stood in the way of that advancement which
he so ardently desired, both for the service of his country and
i6o4
BACON AND CECIL.
J95
for his own advancement Yet it was not to be expected that
James should thrust away an old and tried counsellor like Cecil,
whom he had found on his arrival in England in possession of
authority, to make way for an adviser whose superior
BacSsid- q'^^^ities he was unable to recognise. What he did
vancement. see lu Bacon was a supporter of the Union, who had
been chosen one of the commissioners to meet the delegates
of Scotland. As such he was worthy of a retaining fee. On
August 1 8 Bacon was established by patent in the position of
a King’s Counsel, with which he received a pension of 6o/.^
On the great ecclesiastical question on which he had written so
wisely, Bacon could but hope for the best. He knew that the
King had made up his mind, and he never again strove to
change it.
Whilst the House of Commons was engaged in stormy dis-
. cussions, Convocation was more calmly at work in
drawing up a code of ecclesiastical law. The canons
to which this body gave its assent had been prepared by Bancroft,
The Canons ^ho acted as President of the Upper House, the See
of 1604. Qf Canterbury being vacant. On the occasion of a
discussion upon the use of the cross in baptism, Rudd, Bishop
of St. David’s, in a temperate speech, warned the House of the
evil consequences which would inevitably follow upon the course
which they were taking. The arguments of one man were not
likely to have much weight in such an assembly. As far as in
them lay, they bound down the whole of the clergy and laity of
England to a perpetual uniformity. Every man w^as declared to
be excommunicated who questioned the complete accordance
of the Prayer Book with the Word of God. Nor were the
terrors of excommunication felt only by those who shrank from
bearing spiritual censures. The excommunicated person was
unable to enforce the payment of debts which might be due to
him, and was himself liable to imprisonment till he confessed
his error.
On July 16, a proclamation appeared, in which permission
‘ T 2.COTI 5 Letters and Life y in. 217.
196 THE ENFORCEMENT OF CONFORMITY. CH. v.
was given to the Puritan clergy to retain their livings until
juiyifi. November 30. As soon as the time thus allowed
The King’s foj. consideration had come to an end, they must
either conform or submit to expulsion
Shortly before the end of the term assigned to them, a
small number of Puritans presented a petition to the King at
TheRoyston hunting Seat at Royston. James, vexed at being
petition. taken unawares, told them to send ten of the
wisest among them to the Council. I'he deputation did not
gain much by this step, as they were dismissed, and forced
to give bail to answer for their conduct whenever they might
be summoned.
On December 4, Bancroft was consecrated Archbishop of
Canterbury. If there had been any truth in the fond delusion
of his admirers in the next generation, who traced
ArchHshop all the troubles of the Church to the inefficient w^ay
Bancroft. which Ws successor Carried out his system, it would
have been impossible to make a better choice. He did not,
like Whitgift, persecute in the name of a state expediency. If
he was not the first to adopt the belief that the episcopal
system of the English Church was of Divine appointment, he
w’as at least the first who brought it prominently before the
world. With a full persuasion that he was engaged in repress-
ing the enemies of God, as well as the disturbers of the
Commonwealth, he felt no compunction in applying all his
eneigies to the extirpation of Nonconformity. I'here were
men in the Church of England, who, like Hutton, the Arch-
bishop of York, felt some sympathy with the Puritans, although
they did not themselves share their opinions. But Bancroft
was unable to understand how the Puritans could talk such
nonsense as they did, except from factious and discreditable
motives.^ In other respects he was well fitted for his office.
^ Compare Hutton’s letter (Strype’s iv., App. No. 50) with
the following sentence from one of Bancroft’s (Wilkins’s Com. iv. 409) : —
“ 1 have hitherto not greatly liked any severe course, but perceiving by
certain instructions lately cast abroad, that the present ‘opposition' so lately
constituted doth rather proceed from a combination of sundry factions, v,ho
BANCROFT AND THE NONCONFORMISTS, 197
He was anxious to increase the efficiency of the clergy, as far
as was consistent with a due respect for uniformity, and, if it
had lain in his power, he would have provided an orthodox and
conforming preacher for every parish in England.
He had not been a week in his new office before he was
ordered by the Council to proceed against those amongst the
Dec 10 ^ circular letter which
Proceedings he shortly afterwards addressed to the Bishops,''* he
directed that all curates and lecturers should be
formibts. required, upon pain of dismissal, to subscribe to
those articles which were imposed by the new canons. In the
first of these the King’s supremacy was to be acknowledged ;
in the second a declaration w^as to be made that the Prayer
Book contained nothing contrary to the Word of God ; and in
the third the subscriber affirmed that the Thirty nine Articles
were also agreeable to the Word of God. The beneficed
clergy were to be treated wdth rather more consideration. If
they refused to conform, they w'ere to be at once deposed, but
those amongst them who were willing to conform, though they
refused to subscribe, might be allowed to remain at peace. By
this means, many would be able to retain their livings who,
though they had no objection to perform as a matter of
obedience the services enforced by the Prayer Book, were by
no means ready to declare it to be their conscientious opinion
that everything contained in that book 'was in accordance with
Divine truth.
As may be supposed, this circular caused great consterna-
tion amongst the Puritan clergy and their favourers. It has
been calculated that about three hundred ® of the clergy were
in the pride cf their m'nd are loaih to he foiled, as they term it, than from
any religious care or true conscience,” &c.
* The Council to Bancroft, Dec. lO, 1604, Wilkins’s Cone. iv. 408.
2 Bancroft to the Bishops, Dec. 22, 1604, Wilkins’s Cone. iv. 409.
^ The number has been estimated as low as forty-nine ; but the argu-
ments in Vaughan’s Memonah of the Stuarts seem to me conclusive in
favour of the larger number. To the authorities quoted there may be
added the petition of the Warwickshire ministers {S. P. Dorn. xi. 68), who
speak of twenty-seven being suspended in that county alone ; though the
Bishop expressed his sorrow for that wh’ch he was forced to do.
198 THE ENFORCEMENT OF CONFORMITY. CH. v.
ejected for refusing to comply with the demands made upon
them. The Bishops were frightened at the numbers who re-
lused subscription, but the King urged them on.^ To him the
refusal to conform was a presumption of the existence of a
Presbyterian temper. Such a temper, he held, must be rooted
out, as opposed to monarchical order. To individuals ready to
give way all tenderness was to be shown. “ I am wonderfully
satisfied,” he wrote to the Secretary, “with the Council’s pro-
ceeding anent the Puritans. Since my departure, they have
used justice upon the obstinate, showm grace to the penitent,
and enlarged them that seem to be a little schooled by the
rod of affliction. In this action they have, according to the
loist Psalm, sung of mercy and judgment both.”^
On February 9, a petition in favour of the deprived
ministers was presented to the King by four knights from
Feb. 9, 1605. Northamptonshire. It bore the signatures of forty-
amptSire gentlemen of the county.® I'he King was
petition. enraged. One sentence particularly exasperated
him : the petitioners intimated that, if he denied their suit,
many thousands of his subjects would be discontented ; an
assertion which he looked upon as a threat. On the following
day, he charged the Council to take steps against these daring
men. Three days afterwards, the Chancellor appeared in the
vStar Chamber, and asked the judges if it was lawful to de-
prive nonconforming ministers, and whether it was an offence
agaiast the law to collect signatures for such a petition as that
which had just been presented. To both these questions they
answered in the affirmative.'*
* Chamberlain to Winwood, Wimv. ii. 46.
2 The King to Cranborne, 1604, Hatfield MSS. 134, fol. 48.
® Petition in S. P. Dom. xi. 69. Among the signatures is that of
Erasmus Dryden, grandfather of the poet. A little later (xi. 95) he asked
pardon, and begged to be let out of the Fleet, to which he had been con-
fined in consequence.
■* to the Bishop of Norwich, ElUs^ 2nd ser. iii. 215. A fuller
and more correct account is in a memorandum in the .S. P. Dom. xi. 73,
and printed in Coke’s Rep, at the end of the Reports of Trinity term,
2 Jac, I. This mistake has led some writers into the error of supposing
that the judges were consulted before tbe deliver.y of the petition.
i6o5 the government AND THE PURITANS, 199
It was discovered that the petition had been drawn up by
Sir Francis Hastings, the member for Somersetshire. He was
summoned before the Council, and required to confess that it
was seditious.^ This he refused to do ; but he was ready to
acknowledge that he had done wrong in meddling with such
matters out of his own county. He declared that in the
sentence to which the King objected, he had no intention of
saying anything disloyal. He was finally ordered to retire to
his own country house, and to desist from all dealings in
matters concerning the King’s service. He was told that this
was a special favour, as anyone else would have been ‘ laid by
the heels.’ Sir Edward Montague and Sir Valentine Knightly
met with similar treatment.
In all that was being done the Secretary steadily supported
the King. To him, unlike his cousin Bacon, the external uni-
Cecii’s formity of worship was the source of the higher unity,
opinion. necessary, he wrote, to correct the Puritans
for disobedience to the lawful ceremonies of the Church ;
‘ wherein although many religious men of moderate spirits
might be borne with, yet such are the turbulent humours of
some that dream of nothing but a new hierarchy directly
opposite to the state of a monarchy, as the dispensation with
such men were the highway to break all the bonds of unity, to
nourish schism in the Church and commonwealth. It is well
said of a learned man that there are schisms in habit as well
as in opinion, and that unity in belief can not be preserved
unless it is to be found in worship.’ ^ Already in these words
may be discerned the principles of Laud. The conception
of a nation as an artificial body to be coerced and trained
was that which the writer had cherished in the atmosphere
of the later Elizabethan officialism. The conception of a
nation as a growing body instinct with life was that which
Bacon was taught by his own genius to perceive.
James could never learn this lesson. He encouraged
> Exam, of Sir F. Hastings, S. P. Dom. xl 74.
- “A'if non servatur unitas in credendo, nisi adsit in colmdol Craa*
borne to Hutton, Feb. 1605, LodgSi iii. 125.
200 THE ENFORCEMENT OF CONFORMITY CH. v.
Bancroft to urge on the unwilling Bishops to purify their
March T2. dioceses by the deprivation of all who were unwilling
The Puritan couform,^ though they were allowed to abstain
clergy driven ’ ° ^ ^ .
out. from doing the work too roughly. The deprived
ministers were to be allowed to retain their parsonages for one
or two months, that they might have time to provide for them-
selves and their families, now left without any visible means of
subsistence.
Tlvjse measures having been taken with the existing clergy,
James hoped to be equally successful in providing that the
April 8 . Chuich should never again be troubled with similar
The new difficulties. He commanded the Universities to
oath for the
Universities, administer to their members a new oath, which no
Presbyterian would be willing to take. Even here, however,
Presbyterianism was condemned, not as unscriptural, but as
unsuitable to a monarchical constitution.^
There was at least one religious work not interrupted
by these stormy conflicts. Puritans and Churchmen were
able to sit down together to labour at that translation
traiktTonof of the Bible which has for so many generations been
the Bible. |;j.gas^red by Englishmen of every creed, because in
its production all sectarian influences were banished, and all
hostilities were mute.
There can be little doubt that James seriously believed that
he had brought peace into the Church by imposing conformit3^
The view taken by the Secretary was distinctly that the Church
of England was the stronger for the late proceedings of the
Cecil’s Government “For the religion which they profess,”
view of non- he wrote of the expelled clergy, “ I reverence them
conformity. Calling ; but for their unconformity, I ac-
knowledge myself no way warranted to deal for them, because
’ Bancroft to the Bishops, March 12, 1605, Wilkins’s Cone, iv. 410.
* The King to Cranbome, April 8, 1605, S, P, Dorn, xiii. 75. The
most prominent clause was:— “Deinde me credere ac tenere formam
ecclesiastici regiminis, quae apud nos est, per Archiepiscopos ac Episcopos
legitimam esse, et sacris Scripturis consentaneam, novamque illam ac
j^pularem quse presbyterii nomine usurpatur, utcunque alicubi non im*
pmbandam, Monarchise tamen cert^-jnstilutte minimi convenientem,’
i6o5 puritans AND CATHOLICS. 201
the course they take is no way safe in such a monarchy as
this; where His Majesty aimeth at no other end than where
there is but one true faith and doctrine preached, there to
establish one form, so as a perpetual peace may be settled in
the Church of God ; w^here contrary wise these men, by this
singularity of theirs in things approved to be indifferent by so
many reverend fathers of the Church, by so great multitudes of
their own brethren, yea many that have been formerly touched
with the like weaknesses, do daily minister cause of scandal in
the Church of England, and give impediment to that great and
goodly work, towards which all honest men are bound to yield
their best means, according to their several callings, namely to
suppress idolatry and Romish superstition in all His Majesty’s
dominions.” ^
The view thus taken was that of the man of business in all
ages and in all parts of the w^oild. To such natures the strength
which freedom gives is entirely inconceivable.
The policy of repressing Puritanism was not likely to stand
alone. Partly from a desire to stand well with his Protestant
subjects, partly from a feeling of insecurity, the months m
which the nonconformist clergy were being driven from their
parishes w’ere those in which the Catholics w’ere again bi ought
under the lash of the penal laws.
During the early part of 1604, James had hesitated between
his desire to abstain from persecution, and his disinclination to
1604. see such an increase in the numbers of the Catholics
thTcItho- would enable them to dictate their own terms to
'ics. himself and his Protestant subjects. On February 22
he had issued the proclamation for the banishment of the
priests.^ On March 19, in his speech at the opening of Par-
liament,^ he had expressed his resolution that no new con\erts
should be made, yet a month later the order for banishing the
priests was still unexecuted, and a priest, arrested for saying
mass, was set at liberty by the order of the King. Good Pro-
testants comfdained bitterly that for many years the Catholics
^ Cranborne to some gentlemen of Leicestershire, April 1605, Flat-
field MSS. no, fol. 117.
- P. 145 -
» P. 166.
202 THE ENFORCEMENT OF CONFORMITY. CH v
had enjoyed no such liberty, and the Catholics themselves
doubted whether James would be able to bear up against the
pressure which was being brought against him.^
That the Catholics were on the increase w^as by this time an
undisputed fact In May, they themselves boasted that their
ranks had been joined by 10,000 converts,^ and the
Increase sense of gTOwmg Humbcrs gave them a confidence
Catholics, which they had not before possessed.
James, not unnaturally, took alarm. His distraction of
mind showed itself in his language. On May 1 7, he complained
to the House of Commons of the increase of Papists,
and recommended the preparation of ‘laws to hem
them in.’ ^ In his communications with the Catholics
themselves he fell back on that dreary and impracticable
solution which has commended itself to so many generous
He wishes minds. Why, he asked, could not the Pope consent
be'^sujn-^^ meeting of a general council at which all the
moned. differences between the Churches would be freely
discussed, and the unity of the Church restored.^ At such a
council James would undoubtedly have expected to exercise a
predominant influence. A few months before a Catholic agent
had recommended that if anyone w^ere sent from Rome to gain
any influence over James, he should take care not to attempt
openly to convince him of the error of his ways. He should
explain that the Pope wished to apply to James as to the
greatest and the most intelligent amongst the sovereigns w'ho had
forsaken the Roman See, for his advice on the best means of
^ Relaiio Domini Con.y enclosed in a letter from Del Bufalo to Aklo-
brandino, May Roman TranscriptSy R. 0 . The name is there given
as Com, but I believe him to have been the future agent at the court of
Henrietta Maria.
“ 'Account of a conversation, May 18, S. P. Dom, viii. 30. From
Jan. to Aug. the number in the diocese of Chester alone increased from
2,400 to 3,433. Slate of the diocese of Chester, S. P. Dorn. ix. 28. A
priest is reported to have talked about an insurrection and the seizure of
Chester, &c., Exam, of Hacking, May 20, S. P. Dorn. viii. 34.
» C. T i. 214.
* Del Bufalo to Aldobrandino, June H Roman Transcriphy R. 0 ,
i6o4
ACT AGAINST RECUSANTS.
203
uniting Christendom in one true religion.^ Clement VI 1 . would
no doubt have had no objection to playing with James, as an
angler plays with a salmon, but he was not likely to agree to a
general council, in which the assembled Bishops were, in
mute admiration, to give their willing consent to the views of
the royal theologian, and James was accordingly vexed to find
that there was no likelihood that his suggestion would be
accepted.
Before long, James was recalled to the practical world. On
June 4, a Bill for the due execution of the statutes against
June 4 Jesuits, Seminary Priests, and Recusants was intro-
Act against duced into the House of Lords.^ In spite of the
iNCLusaiits. QppQsition of the Catholic Lord Montague, who was
committed to the Tower for the strong language which he not
unnaturally used, it was sent down to the Commons,
^ and finally passed both Houses, though not without
undergoing considerable alterations. All the statutes of the
late reign were confirmed, and in some points they were made
more severe. The Catholics were, of course, anxious that the
King should refuse his assent to the Bill, A petition^ w’as
presented to him by the priests, in which they olfered to take
an oath of allegiance. A much more important petition * was
presented by a number of the laity, in which they expressed
their readiness to become responsible for the conduct of such
priests as they might be permitted to have in their houses.
This offer was rejected by James, and he gave his
iNoc put in assent to the Bill. He told the French Ambassador,
force. however, that he had no present intention of putting
the Act in force, but that he wished to have the power of re-
pression if any necessity should arise.® As an assurance of the
sincerity of his intentions, he remitted to the sixteen gentlemen
who were liable to the 20/, fine the whole sum which had fallen
^ Constable (?) to Del Bufalo, 160 ^ Roman Transcripts^ R. 0
Jan. 9, 4,
2 I Jac. I. cap. 4.
2 Catholic Priests to the King, July (?) S. P. Dorn. viii. 125.
■* Petition Apologetical, p. 34.
2 Beaumont to the King of France, July 1604, King's MSS. 126,
iol. 122.
204 THE ENFORCEMENT OF CONFORMITY. CH. v.
due since the Queen’s death, as a guarantee that he would never
call upon them for arrears.^
The Catholics might well be content with the treatment
which they were receiving, if only they could be assured that
it would continue. They knew, however, that James stood
alone amongst the Protestant English people in his wish to
protect them, and that they were therefore at the mercy of
any gust of feeling which might sweep over his mind. It was
therefore with considerable interest- that they watched the nego-
tiations which seemed likely to afford them relief by bringing
their own King into close connection with the great Catholic
monarchy of Spain.
That monarchy had, indeed, of late years fallen from its
high estate If Philip II. had been able to carry out his
schemes, he would have re-established the old religion
The Spanish by the prowess of the Spanish armies, and by the
of intrigues of which he held the thread as he sat at his
desk at the Escurial. The Pope would once more
have been looked up to as the head of an undivided Church.
By his side would have stood, in all the prominence of con-
scious superiority, the King of Spain, realising in his person all,
and more than all that, in the Middle Ages, had been ascribed
by jurists and statesmen to the chief of the Holy Roman
Empire, the lay pillar of the edifice of Catholic unity. Kings
would have existed only by his sufferance. Political inde-
pendence and religious independence would have been stifled
on every side. At last, perhaps, the symbol w'ould have
followed the reality, and the Imperial Crown would have rested
on the brows of the true heir of the House of Austria, the
champion of the Church, the master of the treasures of the
West, the captain of armies whose serried ranks and unbroken
discipline would have driven in headlong rout the feudal
chivalry which in bygone centuries had followed the Ottos and
the Fredericks through the passes of the Alps.
This magnificent scheme had broken down completely.
: The long struggle of the sixteeeth century had only served to
July 30, Pat. 2 Jac. I. part 22.
1598 POLICY OF SPAIN. 205
consolidate the power of the national dynasties. The signa-
Faiiureof Peace of Verv'ins was the last act of
his schemes and in accepting the treaty of London,
Philip III. was only setting his seal to his father s acknowledg-
ment of failure.
It was impossible that the memory of such a conflict could
be blotted out in a day. That Spain had never really with-
Spain still drawn her pretensions to universal monarchy, and
MufS she had merely allowed herself a breathing
picion. ill order to recruit her strength for the renewal
of the struggle, was the creed of thousands even in Catholic
France, and was held with peculiar tenacity by the populations
of the Protestant Netherlands and of Protestant England. For
many years every petty aggression on the part of Spain w’-ould
be regarded as forming part of a preconcerted plan for a general
attack upon the independence of Europe.
It was only by the most scrupulous respect for the rights of
other nations, and by a complete abstinence from all meddling
^ , with their domestic affairs, that the Spanish Govern-
Renuncia- ^ .
tion of direct ment could hope to allay the suspicion of which it
Say was the object. Unhappily there was but little pro-
&pain. Lability of such a thorough change of policy. It is
true that, under the guidance of Lerma, Philip III., a prince
whose bigotry was only equalled by his listlessness and in-
efficiency, had definitely renounced all intention of extending
his own dominions or of establishing puppet sovereigns at
London or at Paris. It is also true, that now that there was no
longer to be found in Europe any considerable body of Catholics
who were the subjects of a Protestant sovereign, the policy of
stirring up disaffection in the Protestant states was of necessity
relinquished. But the old theories were still dear to the heart
of every Spaniard. Philip III. was still the Catholic King, the
pillar of the Church, the protector of the faithful. Even Lerma,
desirous as he was of maintaining a peace which alone made it
possible for him to stave off a national bankruptcy, and to fill
his own pockets with the plunder of the State, could not wholly
abandon the traditional principles of his nation. If the doc-
trines of the advocates of tyrannicide were suffered gradually to
zo 6 THE ENFORCEMENT OF CONFORMITY. CH. v.
drop out of sight, it was only because it seemed likely that the
triumph of the Church might be secured more easily in another
way. The Spanish statesmen— if statesmen they can
inents to be be Called — saw that the opposition to the aggressions
gamed over. 5pain had everywhere given rise to strong national
governments, and they fell into the mistake of supposing that
the national governments were everything, and that the national
spirit by which they were supported was nothing. Of the
strength of Protestantism they were utterly and hopelessly
ignorant. They supposed it to be a mere congeries of erroneous
and absurd opinions, which had been introduced by the princes
for the gratification of their own selfish passions, and they never
doubted that it would fall to pieces from its own inherent weak-
ness as soon as the support of the princes was withdrawn.
The Spanish Government, therefore, was no longer to irri
tate the neighbouring sovereigns by cultivating relations with
their discontented subjects. It would gain their ear by acts of
courtesy, and would offer to support them against domestic
opposition. Above all, in Protestant countries, no stone should
be left unturned to induce the heretic king to seek repose in
the bosom of the Church of Rome. It was by such means as
these that sober men seriously hoped to undo the work of
Luther and of Elizabeth, and, accomplishing in peace what
Philip II. had failed to bring to pass by force of arms, to lay
the hitherto reluctant populations of Northern Europe as an
offering at the feet of the successor of St. Peter.
Before anything could be done by the Spanish Government
to give effect to so far-reaching a scheme, it was necessary to
convert into a formal peace the cessation of hostilities which
had followed on the accession of James to the throne of Eng-
land. Before that could be done there must be some under-
standing on the relation between England and the Dutch
,,, Republic.
■ i Towards the end of July 1603, Aremberg requested James
; id paediat^j between his master and the States.^ A week or two
'! 1 ' , I '
! * Beawnciit to the King of France, 1603, MSS. 124, fol.
14
i6o3 a SPANISH AMBASSADOR SENT. 207
later the King wrote to the States, telling them that he had
given no answer to Aremberg till he heard from them whether
they would join the. treaty. ^ This letter was accom-
Ne?otiations panied by another from the Privy Council to Sir Ralph
With Spam. \y^nwood, the English member of the Dutch Council
assuring him that, though the King was desirous of treating, he
would conclude nothing to their disadvantage. If the Spaniards
declined to admit the States to the negotiations, the English
would refuse the peace altogether. If the States refused his
offer of including them in the treaty, James would even then
insist upon a clause being inserted, assigninga time within which
they might be admitted. ^ At the same time permission was
granted to Caron, the Ambassador of the States in London, to
levy a regiment in Scotland. The States, however, were not to
be won by these advances. They finnly refused to treat on any
conditions whatever.^ England must therefore negotiate for
itself, if it was not to be dragged into an intenninable war.
In the autumn of 1603 James seems to have been less in-
clined to peace than he had hitherto been. Towards the end
of September Don Juan de Taxis, Count of Villa Mediana,
^ ^ arrived with letters from the King of Spain : but
Septem^ier. , . . , ,
there was some informality m the address, and, above
all, he brought no commission to treat The Duke of Frias,
the Constable of Castile, was expected to bring the necessary
powers after Christmas. Meanwhile, James heard that Villa
Mediana was employing his time in opening communications
'with the principal Catholics, and in giving presents to the
courtiers."*
In the middle of January 1604 the Constable arrived at
Brussels. He begged that the English Commissioners might
be sent to treat with him there, as he was labouring under an
indisposition.® This was of course inadmissible. Spain had
^ James to the States, Aug. 10, 1603, Winw. ii. i.
2 Lords of Council to Winwood, Aug. 10, 1603, Winw. ii. 2.
® Winwood to Cecil, Aug. 21, S. P. Holland.
^ Beaumont to the King of France, Oct. Oct 1603,
King^s MSS. 124, fol. 125, 151, 168.
® Beaumont to the King of France, Jan. ~ 1604, MSS. 124,
fol. 374 b. ' ^
Ji^8 THE ENFORCEMENT OF CONFORMITY. CH. v.
refused at Boulogne to allow the ambassadors of the Queen of
Tan t 6 o 4 to occupy an equal position with her own:
A.mvki of she must now acknowledge her defeat by coming to
stabie^at Loudon to beg for peace. After a delay of nearly
Biusseis. months the conferences commenced, the Con-
stable ^ having sent his powers over to those whom he appointed
to treat in his name.
On May 20 the Commissioners met for the first time. On
the English side were the Lord Treasurer, the Lord Buckhurst
May 20. of Elizabeth’s reign, who had recently been created
thrcom Earl of Dorset ; the Lord High Admiral, the Earl of
missioners. Nottingham, who, as Lord Howard of Effingham,
had seen the Armada fly before him ; the Earl of Devonshire,
fresh from the conquest of Ireland, wffiere he had been known
as Lord Mount] oy : Lord Henry Howard, now raised to the
peerage by the title of Earl of Northampton ; and last, but not
least, the indefatigable Secretary, Lord Cecil.
On the part of Spain appeared the Count of Villa Mediana,
who had been appointed Ordinary Ambassador to England,
and Alessandro Rovida, Senator of Milan, upon whom was laid
the chief burden of sustaining the interests of the King of
Spain. The Archduke had sent as his representatives the
Count of Aremberg, the President Richardot, and the Audiencer
Verreyken.
As soon as some merely formal difficulties
aside, Rovida opened the discussion by proposing that England
The con- sliould enter into an offensive and defensive alliance
ferences. Spain.^ This proposition having been instantly
rejected, he then asked for a merely defensive league, or at
least for a mutual promise not to assist those who were in
rebellion against the authority of either Sovereign. This, of
course, brought forward the real question at issue. Richardot
asked Cecil in plain language what he intended to do about the
^ Beaumont to the King of France, May 1604, x¥SS. 125,
foL 233.
^ * There is a most full and interesting report of these discussions, of
>hich the ongioal copy, in Sir T. Edmoades’ hand, is among the S, F,
‘‘Sp. There is a copy m Add. MSS, 14,033.
i6o4
THE TREATY WITH SPAIN.
209
States. Fortunately, Cecil had now gained the full support of
tiis master. James had already told Aremberg that he refused
to consider the Dutch as rebels. Cecil begged the Commis-
sioners not to press him to dispute whether they were rebels or
no. How^ever that might be, ‘ he would boldly affirm that the
contracts which were made by the deceased virtuous and pious
Princess (whose memory he was ever bound to honour) with
those that call themselves by the name of the United Provinces
were done upon very just and good cause.’ He demanded
whether Spain would regard the interruption of trade between
' England and Holland as essential to the peace ; and Rovida
was obliged to give way.
In fact, Cecil knew that he was playing a winning game.
It was not his fault that the States refused to be included in
the negotiations, but as they had, he was determined that they
should suffer no loss which could possibly be avoided. He
knew how necessary peace w^as for Spain. The Spaniards knew
it too, and step by step they gave way before him.
By the treaty which, after six Aveeks of negotiation, was
eventually drawn up, James vaguely promised that he would
enter into negotiations with the States on the subject
Points * of the ‘ cautionary towns,’ wherein he w'ould assign a
wtrregLi competent time ‘to accept and receive conditions
to Holland, justice and equity for a pacification to
be had with the most renowned princes, his dear brethren,
which, if the States shall refuse to accept, His Majesty from
thenceforth, as being freed from the former conventions, will
determine of those towms according as he shall judge it to
be just and honourable, wherein the said princes, his loving
brethren, shall find that there shall be no want in him of those
good offices which can be expected from a friendly prince.’ ^
With such unmeaning verbiage, which, as Cecil a few days later
told W inwood to explain to the States,^ meant nothing, the
Spanish Commissioners were forced to be content. The garn-
* The treaty is in Rynier, xvi. 617, in Latin. The quotations are
taken from an English translation in Harl, MSS, 351.
2 Cecil to Winwood, June 13, IVinw, ii. 23. He pointed out tliat
James was to judge what conditions were agreeable to justice and equity.
VOL. 1. P
210 THE ENFORCEMENT OF CONFORMITY, CH. Y.
wirs of the towns were to be considered neutral No English
ships were to be allowed to carry Dutch goods between Spain
and the United Netherlands,^ but no diplomatic arts could
gain from the English a promise that their vessels would abstain
from carrying Dutch merchandise elsewhere. It was no less
in vain that the Spaniards urged that James should prohibit
Englishmen from serving in the armies either of the enemies
or of the rebellious subjects of his new ally. All that they
could obtain was a promise that the King would not consent
to the levy of troops for such purposes in his dominions. “ His
Majesty,” said Cecil in writing to Winwood,^ “ promised neither
to punish nor to stay, but only that he will not consent— a word
of which you know the latitude as well as I.” Nor was this a
mere equivocation, kept in secret for future use. The Spaniards
knew perfectly well what the clause was worth. They had asked
that the volunteers which were now serving the States should
be persuaded to return, * which was thought reasonable by their
lordships to be promised to be done, so fax forth as the parties
serving there would be induced thereunto ; and thereupon
the articles were so reformed as should neither import any
such public revocation, nor to restrain the going of voluntaries
thither.’ At most, they were obliged to be contented with the
promise that James would himself be neutral, and would throw
no hindrances in the way of enlistment for the Archduke’s
service.
In estimating the effect of this treat}^ upon the States, it
must be remembered that by none of its articles were they de-
prived of any assistance from England, which they had enjoyed
since the last agreement in 1598.’ At that time, Elizabeth,
considering that the States were able to defend themselves,
stipulated that they should pay the English soldiers in their
service. This state of affairs was not affected by the treaty
This point was not yielded till the Dutch merchants were consull ej,
' Wim>. ii. 23 ; and the Merchants’ Statement, S. P. Hoi. (undated),
iji; * Cecil to Winwood, Sept. 4, Wimv. ii. 27.
*„ / J* Nor did th^ lose anything which they gained by the treaty between
Enghuad in 1^3, as the King cf Fjance continued to furnish
M 1 we i ' , ' '
j 6 o 4 the treaty WITH SPAIN. 211
with Spain. The only possible injury which they could receive
would arise from the loss of the co-operation of the English
ships ; but, with their own flourishing navy, it was certain that
this loss would not be severely felt Dissatished as they un-
doubtedly were with what was, in their eyes, a desertion of the
common cause, they could only lay their fingers upon tw^'O
clauses of which it was possible to complain. The first was one
by which a certain small number of Spanish ships of war were
allowed to take refuge in an English port when driven by stress
of weather, or by want of provisions or repairs ; the other—
against which Cecil had long stood out, and which was only
conceded at the last moment, probably on account of the mer-
cantile interests of the English traders— bound each of the
contracting parties to take measures to throw open any ports
belonging to the other which might be blockaded. It led, as
might have been expected, to embarrassing negotiations with
the States. Cecil, however, always maintained that the clause
bound him to nothing. “ Howsoever we may dare operam^'^ ^
he wrote to Parry, by persuasion or treaty, we mean not to
keep a fleet at sea to make wax upon ” the Dutch “ to maintain
a petty trade of merchandise.” Finally, it was agreed that if
ever the States should be inclined to make any proposal to the
Archduke, James should be at liberty to present it on their
behalf, and to support it in any negotiations which might
follow.
If the Spaniards were obliged to content themselves, in the
clauses which related to the States, with ambiguities which
would certainly not be interpreted in their favour,
Trade with they fared little better in their attempt to obtain, from
the Indies., English Commissioners, even the most indirect
acknowledgment of the illegality of the English trade with the
Indies. The English negotiators proposed that a proclamation
should be issued forbidding English subjects from trading with
places actually in the occupation of the Spanish Government,
on condition that Spain would withdraw all pretensions to ex-
clude them from trading with the independent natives. They
‘ The parties were Ixiunci * lare aperan}! thit the ports should be
openecL
212 THE ENEORCEMENT OF CONFORMITY. CH. v.
refused, however, to bird themselves to obtain a written promise
from the King that he would prohibit his subjects from engaging
in the contraband trade, and the proposition was rejected.
They contented themselves, as Elizabeth would have done if
she had been alive, ^ with ignoring the whole subject in the
treaty, though they expressed their opinion strongly enough in
the conference. 2 To leave English traders to provide for their
own defence would, in our own days, be sheer insanity. It is
now understood that it is the duty of the Royal Navy to pro-
tect unarmed merchant ships in every quarter of the globe.
In the beginning of the seventeenth century it w^as not likely
that a single man-of-war would be found even a hundred leagues
from the coasts of the British Islands. The vessels, half-mer-
chantman, half-privateer, which were the terror of the Spanish
authorities in the American seas, never thought of asking for
the protection of the navy. They were perfectly well able to
take care of themselves. The only question, therefore, which
the English Government had to consider was, whether they
should continue the war in Europe in order to force the King
of Spain to recognise the right of these adventurers to trade
within certain limits, or whether the war was from henceforth
to be carried on in one hemisphere alone. If Spain insisted
that there should be no peace beyond the line,^ it w’ould be
better to leave her to reap the fruits of a policy which before
long w^ould give birth to the buccaneers.
One other question remained to be solved. Cecil had taken
an early opportunity of proposing that English merchants trading
The In- Spain should be free from the jurisdiction of the
quiMtion. Inquisition. The Spanish Commissioners answered
that where no public scandal w’as given, the King ‘would be
* In her instructions to the Commissioners at Boulogne, the following
passage occurs you cannot possibly draw them to consent to any
toleration of trade, that at least j ou would yield to no prejudice of restric-
tion on that hehalf, but to pass that point over.” — Wimv. i. 212,
2 Thus Northampton said : “ Our people was a warlike nation, and
having been accustomed to make purchases (i.e. prizes) on the seas, would
not better be reduced than by allowing them free liberty of trade.”
* i.e. the line beyond which all lands had been given by the Pope to
the King of Spain.
i6o4 the treaty WITH SPAIN. 213
careful to recommend ’ that the Inquisition should leave the
belief of English merchants unquestioned j but they thought
that those who openly insulted the religion of the country in
which they were, would be justly amenable to its laws. Cecil,
who was fully alive to the propriety of this distinction, but who
knew the iniquitous character of the laws of Spain, protested
that there was no reason that Englishmen ‘should be subject
to the passionate censure of the Inquisition, and be so strangely
dealt withal as ordinarily they had been/ If these practices
were to continue, the Spaniards who from time to time visited
England shou’d undergo similar ill-treatment The subject
was then dropped. When it was again taken up, it was agreed,
after a long discussion, that an article should be framed to the
effect that ‘ His Majesty's subjects should not be molested by
land or sea for matter of conscience, within the King of Spain’s
or the Archduke’s dominions, if they gave not occasion of public
scandal’ The nature of public scandal w'as defined by three
secret articles which were appended to the treaty.^ It was
agreed that no one should be molested for any act which he
had committed before his arrival in the country ; that no one
should be compelled to enter a church, but that, if he entered
one of his own accord, he should ‘ perform those duties and
reverences which are used towards the holy sacrament of the
altar \ ’ that if any person should ‘ see the holy sacrament
coming towards ’ him ‘in any street,’ he should ‘do reverence
by bowing ’ his ‘ knees, or else to pass aside by some other
street, or turn into some house.’ It was also stipulated that if
the officers of any ships lying in a Spanish harbour did ‘ exceed
in any matter herein, the Inquisition proceeding against them
by office, is only to sequester their own proper goods, and are
to leave free the ships, and all other goods not belonging to the
offenders.’
These articles, which were copied from a similar agreement
which had been made between Queen Elizabeth and the Duke
of Alva, contained all that the English Government was justified
in demanding. Every man who avoided giving public scandal
would be freed from all molestation.
^ IVinw. ii. 29*
214 THE ENFORCEMENT OF CONFORMITY. CH. v.
At last, after the work had been done, the Constable of
Castile arrived, and on August 19 James solemnly swore to
Aug. 19. observe the treaty. The proclamation of the peace,
^or the most part received in sullen
James. silence, only broken here and there by exclama-
tions of “ God preserve our good neighbours in Holland and
Zealand 1 ” These good neighbours had just succeeded, by a
masterly stroke of war, in capturing Sluys, to counterbalance
their impending loss of Ostend. On the day on which James
swore to the peace with Spain, there was scarcely a pulpit in
I^ndon where thanksgivings were not offered for the success
of the Dutch-^ Nevertheless, those who had negotiated the
treaty had the satisfaction of knowing that they had ended an
arduous struggle by a just and honourable peace. In a few
years the Dutch, left to themselves, would begin to think that
it was not impossible for them to follow the example of
England. No cause arising from the general position of Con-
tinental politics made it advisable to continue the war. The
onward flow of Spanish power, which had threatened in the six-
teenth century to swallow up the Protestant States, had slackened.
The onward flow of Austrian power, which was destined to
inundate Germany in the seventeenth century, was still in the
future. For the present there was a lull, of which England would
do well to take advantage. After the great war with Spain, as in
later times after the great war with France, peace, retrenchment,
and reform were the objects which every true statesman should
have kept in view, if he wished to prepare the vessel of State to
Aug 20 coming storm. It was with this work that
Cecil ’ Cecil hoped to connect his name. He was still in full
possession of the King’s confidence. On August 20,
the day after the solemn acceptance of the treaty, he was '
raised a step in the peerage, by the title of Viscount Cranborne.
The new resident Spanish Ambassador, the Count of Villa
Mediana, had other things to do besides fulfilling the ordinary
The Spanish functions of his office. He came provided with gold,
pe.isioners. ministers of James to his master’.s
service. That Northampton made no difficulty in accepting a
■ Caron to the States General, Aug. 21., Add. MSS. 17, 677 G. fob 173,
THE PENSIONERS OF SPAIN.
215
1:604
pension of t,ooo/. will astound no one. It is as little a mattei-
Northamp- ^ox surpHSC that SufTolk, the old sea captain who had
ton. fought at the side of Raleigh and Essex, refused to
contaminate his fingers with Spanish gold. Lady Suffolk, how-
ever, fell an easy victim, and it is probable that, through her,
Lerma knew as much of her husband’s secrets as if
the Earl himself had been drawn into the net She,
with Dorset and Devonshire, had 1,000/. a year a-
piece. Sir William Monson, the Admiral who commanded in
the Narrow Seas, not only received a pension of 350/. himself,
Sir William but assisted the Ambassador in gaining others over,
whilst another pension, of a similar amount, was
assigned to Mrs. Drummond, the first Lady of the
Queen’s Bed-Chamber.
But that which is, in every way, most difficult of explanation
is that Cranborne himself condescended to accept a pension of
„ , 1,000/., which was raised to 1,500/. in the following
year.* Unluckily we know scarcely more than the
bare fact. One of the Spanish ambassadors, indeed, who sub-
sequently had dealings with him, pronounced him to be a venal
traitor, who was ready to sell his soul for money. On the other
hand we know that, up to the day of his death, his policy when-
ever he had free play, was decidedly and increasingly anti-
Spanish. In the negotiations which were just over, he had been
the steady opponent of the Spanish claims, and, almost at the
very moment when he was bargaining for a pension, he
Aug. 19. interpreting the treaty, as far as it was possible,
in favour of the enemies of Spain. We know also, from the evi-
dence of Sir Walter Cope, who, shortly after his death, wrote a
defence of his character, at a time when every sentence would be
scanned by unfriendly eyes, that he was not accessible to ordi-
nary corruption ; and this statement is confirmed by the negative
evidence of the silence of the letter- writers of the day on this
‘ Memoir left by Villa Mediana, July -g- 1605, Simancas MSS.^
2544. The names of the Earl of Dunbar, Lord Kinloss, Sir T. Lake,
Sir J. Ramsay, and Sir J. Lindsay, a*e given for pensions, either sus-
pended or not paid at all. Compare Digby to the King, Sept. 9, 1613.
Dec. 16, 1615, April 3, 1616, S. P. Spain.
2 i 6 the enforcement OF CONFORMFIV, CH. v.
score, though their letters teem with stories of the bribery
which prevailed at Court as soon as power had passed into
other hands
There can, however, be no doubt that though he was gener-
ally looked upon as a man who w^as inaccessible to ordinary
Conjecture never regarded as indifferent to
as to his money. He had heaped up a considerable fortune
intention. service of the State, although he had not con-
descended to use any improper means to obtain wealth. It is
possible that, as soon as the peace was concluded, — thinking
as he did that it was likely to be permanent, — he offered to do
those services for the Spanish Government which, as long as
it was a friendly power, he could render without in any way
betraying the interests of his own country ; whilst, with his very
moderate standard of morality, he did not shrink from accepting
a pecuniary reward for what he did. This is probably the ac-
count of his relations with the French Government, from which
also, according to a by no means unlikely story, he accepted a
pension.^
But it is plain that, even if this is the explanation of his
original intentions, such a comparatively innocent connection
with Spain soon extended itself to something worse, and that
he consented to furnish the ambassadors, from time to time,
with information on the policy and intentions of the English
Government. Yet the despatches of those aml;assadors are
filled with complaints of the spirit in which he performed his
bargain. Of the persistence with which he exacted payment
there can be no doubt whatever. Five years later, when the
opposition between the two Governments became more decided,
he asked for an increase of his payments, and demanded that
tliey should be made in large sums as each piece of informa-
tion was given. When afterguards England took up a position
of almost direct hostility to Spain, the information sent home
by the ambassadors became more and more confused.
Whatever the truth may have been, it is certain that Cran-
' At least Northampton told Sir R. Cotton that he believed that this
the case.— Examination of Sir Robert Cotton, CoU. AfSS, Til. B. viii.
lol. 489.
i6o4
TREATY WITH FRANCE,
217
borne was at no time an advocate of a purely Spanish policy.
England and He knew well that, in order to preserve the indepen-
France. dence of Europe, it was necessary that England should
remain on friendly terms with France, which was now recovering,
under Henry IV., the vigour which it had lost during the civil
wars, and w'as standing in steady, though undeclared, opposition
to Spain. Yet, necessary as this French alliance was to England,
it was not unaccompanied by difficulties. Cranbome was not
anxious to see another kingdom step into the place which had
lately been occupied by Spain. Above all things, he did not wish
to see the Spanish Netherlands in the hands of the power which
already possessed such a large extent of coast so near to the
shores of England. The prospect of danger which might pos-
sibly arise from such an increase of the dominions of the King
of France, imparted a certain reticence, and even vacillation,
to his dealings with the French ambassador, which increased
the uncertainty of the policy of the English Government
Happily, whatever might occur in future times, there were,
at the accession of James, no points of difference between France
and England, excepting a few difficulties which had
merciai bccn throwu m the way of the English merchants
treaty. engaged in the French trade. These were,
how’ever, removed by the signature of a commercial treaty,
which directed the appointment of a permanent commission,
composed of two English and two French merchants, who w’ere
to sit at Rouen for the settlement of disputes. Henry also gave
up the iniquitous droit daubaine, by which the King of France
laid claim to the goods of all foreigners dying within his
dominions.*
There was more difficulty in coming to an agieement upon
the meaning of the treaty which had been signed at Hampton
Difficulty in According to its stipulations, France
interpreting had fumished the Dutch with a considerable sum of
the treaty of - , . , . , .. t i i
Hampton moncy, deducting a third part from the debt owed
’ by Henry to the King of England. As soon as the
Spanish treaty was signed, Cranbome, who knew that James had
no money to spare, declared that the agreement with France
was no longer in force— an opinion w'hich appears to have
‘ RyiiWf xvi. 645.
2 i 8 the enforcement OF CONFORMITY, CH, v.
derived some colour from the somewhat ambiguous terms in
which the treaty was couched The French Government was
of a contrary opinion and continued to furnish the sums re-
quired by Holland in yearly payments, and to deduct a third
of these payments from its debt to England.^
The relations with the States-General required far more
careful consideration. It was certain that they would feel ag-
grieved at the treaty with Spain, and it was equally certain that
the Spaniards would urge the English Government to break off
The block- intercourse with the Republia The first difficulty
was presented by the expectation of the Spaniards
by the that the English merchant vessels would be supported
by their Government in forcing the blockade of the
ports of Flanders. The merchants themselves were eager to
open a new trade, and a large number of vessels made the
attempt to get through the Dutch squadron. The Dutch were
not likely to consent to see the fruit of their efforts to starve
out their enemies thus thrown aw'ay in a day. The English
vess’els were stopped, and their crews were subjected to no
gentle treatment^ Nor were the Dutch content with blockading
the ports of Flanders. They pretended to be authorized to
stop all trade with Spain, and captured upon the high seas some
English vessels which were employed in carrying corn to that
country.^ This latter pretension w^as, of course, inadmissible ;
but Salisbury had no intention of supporting the merchants in
forcing an actually existing blockade. In order, however, to
fulfil the stipulation by which England was bound to take
measures for opening the trade, a despatch was sent to Sir
Ralph Winwood, who represented the English Government
in HoDand, directing him to request the States to be more
moderate in their proceedings, ‘ and to beg them to agree to
some regulations under which trade might, to a certain extent,
be still carried on.’ ^ A little later, a direct proposition was
' An account of the money paid is among the S, R. Holland^ 1609.
- Winwood to Cecil, Sept. 12, 1604 ; Whvw, ii. 31 ; and Sept. 28,
1604, S. F, Holland.
* Edxnondes to Winwood, Sept. 30, 1604 ; Wintv. ii. 33.
* Nottingham, &c., to Winwood, Oct. 25, 1604, T Hollands
i6o4 the difficulties OF NEUTRALITY. 219
made, that the States should allow English vessels to go up to
Antwerp, on payment of a toll* The States refused to accept
any proposition of the kind, and the ports remained blockaded
till the end of the war. The English merchants w'ho com-
jiiained to their Government of the loss of their vessels received
but cold answers, and w^ere given to understand that there was
no intention of rendering them any assistance. The pretension
of the States to cut off all trade from Spain itself, without en-
forcing an actual blockade, was quietly dropped
Although James had refused to advance any further sums of
money to the States, he still allow^ed the levy of troops for their
service in his dominions. A similar permission could
Levies for not be refused to the Archduke ; but every difficulty
seems to have been thrown in his way by the
Government^
It was not easy to preserve the neutrality of the English
ports. Questions were sure to arise as to the exact limits of
Difficulty of sovereignty of England. The crews -of the fleet
preserving which guarded the Straits, under the command of
neucraiuj. g.^ William Monson, were roused to indignation at
the treatment which the sailors on board the merchant vessels
endeavouring to break the blockade had received at the hands
of the Dutch. Whilst, therefore, on land scarcely an English-
man was to be found who did not favour the cause of the States,
the sailors on board the fleet were animated by very different
feelings.^ They even went so far as to capture a Dutch ship
which was coming up the Straits with the booty which had
been taken out of a Spanish prize.^ The excuse probably was
that it had come too near the English coast The capture was,
however, annulled by the Court of Admiralty.**
The Spanish Government, in the hands of Lerma, was dis-
* Winwootl to Cranborne, Feb. 10, 1605, S. P. Holland.
Beaumont to the King of France, March April 1605,
King’s MSS. 127, fol. 237 j 128, fol. IT b, 103,
^ Chamberlain to Winwood, Feb. 26, 1605, Winw. ii. 48.
* Beaumont to the King of France, Feb. L 1605, Kin^s MSS. 127,
rol. 157.
‘ Beaumont to Villeroi, April ^ 1605, King’t MSS. 128, fol. ibid.
220 THE ENFORCEMENT OF CONFORMITY, CH. v.
tracted in its English policy between two tendencies which it
was difficult to reconcile. As a temporal potentate the King
of Spain needed a good understanding with England to enable
him to overpower the Dutch. As a spiritual potentate— no
other name befits the position which he claimed— he was bound,
by the tradition of his house, to claim a right of interference
with the religious condition of every Prorestant country, which
made a real understanding with England impossible. During
his short visit to England the Constable of Castile
Proposed had been informed by the Queen of her wish that
her eldest son Henry should marry the Infanta Anne,
the eldest daughter of Philip HI., who, as the future
Philip IV. w’as yet unborn, was at that time the
heiress of the Spanish throne. James, it would seem, did not
raise any objection, and Northampton, whether truly or not,
assured the Constable that Cranbome was favourable to the
project The Constable,^ who was, no doubt, prepared for the
overture, declared that his master would gladly give his consent,
if he could obtain satisfaction as regarded education and re-
ligion. When he left London on August 25, he left with Villa
Poposai to Medians, who remained as resident ambassador, in-
structions to inform James that if the negotiation was
a Catholic, j-q Carried on, his son must be sent to Spain to be
educated as a Catholic.
Such, according to the tw'o ambassadors, was the only
human means of reducing England to the Catholic religion
and to the bosom of the Roman Church.^ It is no wonder
that the immediate effect of the proposal was to open James’s
eyes to the real views of Spain, and to make him yield to the
pressure under which he was constantly placed to hold a
stricter hand with the English Catholics.
If James had been hitherto tolerant, his tolerance had been,
James’s talk owing to his failure to recognise that
about union the Papal system was unchangeable. Not very long
ome. Constable’s departure, he had been chat-
tering, with J^n agent of the Duke of Lorraine, of his readiness to
* Notes left with Villa Mediana, Simancas MSS. 841, 114.
’ Villa Mediana to Philip III. ^4i)
i6o4 persecution OF THE CATHOLICS,
221
acknowledge the Roman Church as his mother, and the Pope
as Universal Bishop with general spiritual jurisdiction. If the
Church of Rome would make one step in the direction of union,
he was ready to make three. It could not be said that he was
obstinate. He was quite ready to believe all that was in the
Scriptures, and in the teaching of the Fathers of the first three
centuries. He took more account of the works of St. Augus-
tine and St. Bernard than of those of Luther and Calvin. He
was sorry that he had been obliged, against his will, to consent
to the new Recusancy Act, but it was in his power to put it in
execution or not, as he thought best, and he would never punish
the Catholics for religion only.^
It was a rude awakening from James’s dream of a union in
which Rome was to abandon its distinctive principles, when he
was confionted with a demand that his son should be educated
in a foreign land, in order~it was impossible to doubt the in-
tention of the demand — that he might some day bring England
under that yoke which James himself refused to bear.
Unluckily for the English Catholics, their case was again
under the consideration of the Government when this demand
ThePecn made. Without instructions from the King,
sancy some of the judgcs had taken upon themselves to
effect by tbe Carry the Recusancy Act into effect. At Salisbury a
judges. seminary priest named Sugar was condemned and
executed. A layman suffered a similar fate on the charge of
abetting him in the exercise of his functions.^ At Manchester
several persons suffered death.® It is probable that these bar-
barities were the work of the judges themselves. It was quite
in accordance with James’s usual negligence of details that he
’ Del Bufalo to Aklobrandino, Sept. “ (implying an earlier date for the
conversation), Roman Transcripts, R. 0 . The embassy from Lorraine is
mentioned in Carleton’s letter to Chamberlain, Aug. 27, 5 . P, Dorn, k. 25
- Challoner’s Missimary Priests, ii. 44.
® Jardine, Narrative of the Gunpenader Plot, 45, from the Rushton
Papers. He asserts that the judges, before proceeding on this circuit,
received fresh instructions to enforce the penal statutes. But here, and in
many passages, he has been misled, by following other writers in the
chronological mistake of supposing that Feb. 14, 1604, in IVinwood ii, 49,
meant Feb. 14, 1603-4 iitstead of 1604-5.
222 THE ENFORCEMENT OF CONFORMITY. CH. v.
should have neglected to give positive orders to avoid blood-
shed ; and the fact that he did give such orders in the follow-
ing year, even when he was urging the judges to put in force the
penal laws, is a presumption against his having been the author
of these executions.^
It is by no means improbable that the judges brought back
with them a report of the increasing number of recusants.^
Sept 5. Either through alarm at this danger, or through
annoyance at the extraordinary demand which had
over the just been made to him by the Spanish Ambassador,
banishment \ . ;; , t •
ofpnests. James determined at first to fall back on his
original plan : to exile the clergy and to spare the laity. On
September 5, commissioners were appointed to preside over the
banishment of the priests.^ It was not a measure which was
likely to prove effectual. On September 21, such priests as
were then in prison were sent across the sea. From the other
side they addressed a dignified and respectful letter to the
Privy Council, complaining of the injustice jof their treatment,
and declaring that they were in no wise bound to remain
abroad. Before the expulsion of the priests, the Council on
September 14 discussed the case of the lay Catholics, and by
a considerable majority recommended that the law
The Catho- t t i i • /- • t a /->
Ho iaity to shoula not DC put in force against them. As Cran-
be spared. voted with this majority, it is to be presumed
that the resolution of the Council was in accordance with the
wishes of the King.^
It was hardly likely that persecution, once commenced,
' The Nuncio at Paris, no doubt from information derived from the
English Catholics, says that the executions were ‘senza la participaiioiie
di quel Re. (Del Bufalo to Aldobrandino, Aug. — Roman Transcrips,
R. 0 .) Bacon seems to imply that the judges in Elizabeth’s reign some-
times acted as I have supposed their successors in the reign of James to
have done, in fd. mem. Elk. Lit. and Pi of. Works, i. 301.
^ The reported increase of recusants in the diocese of Cheste'r, referred
to at p. 202, is made up to August.
* Comm ssion to Ellesmere and others, Sept. 5, Rymer, xvi. 597.
* The Banished Priests to the Corncil, Sept. 24, Tierney’s Dodd.
i6o4 persecution OF THE CATHOLICS.
would stop here. ^ Thomas Pound, an aged Lancashire Catholic,
who had suffered imprisonment in the late reign for his
-und's* religion, took up the case of the unfortunate persons
who had suffered at the late assizes in the northern
circuit. Serjeant Phelips had condemned a man to death
simply ^ for entertaining a Jesuit,’ and it was said that he had
declared that, as the law stood, all who were present when
mass was celebrated were guilty of felony.^ Pound presented a
petition to the King, on account of which he was arrested, and,
by order of the Privy Council, was prosecuted in the Star
Chamber. According to one account, he merely complained
of the persecution which the Catholics were undergoing, and
of the statements made by Phelips at Manchester. There is,
however, reason to suppose that he charged Phelips with words
which did not in reality proceed from him.^ Whatever his
offence might have been, the sentence of the Star Chamber was
a cruel one. After browbeating and abusing him for some
time, the Court condemned him to a fine of a thousand pounds,
and to be pilloried at Westminster, and again at Lancaster. In
all probability he did not undergo his punishment at West-
minster. He was taken to I^ncaster at the spring assizes of
the following year, and having there made submission, he was
apparently allowed to return home. His fine was first reduced
to loo/.,^ and in the end was remitted altogether.®
’ Notes of a debate in the Council Sept. Simancas MSS. 841, 184,
The majority were Northampton, Cranbome, Dorset, Suffolk, Northum-
berland, Nottingham, and Lennox; the minority, Burghley, K inloss, and
Ellesmere.
More to Winwood, Dec. 2, 1604, Winw. ii. 36. See Jardine, p. 45.
* At least I cannot understand in any other way the words in ihe
proceedings at York and Lancaster, S. P, Dom, v. 73. The, true date is
in the spring of 1605. It is calendared among the undated papers of
1603. The passage is “First, Mr. Pound there,” i.e. at Lancaster, “being
resolved both by the Attorney of the Wards, and Mr. Tilsley, to whom
he appealed in the Star Chamber for testimony, and by all others the
Justices of the Peace at the former and this assizes present, of the untruth
of his infcimation to His Majesty, he thereupon confessed his fault.”
'* Compare Eudaemon Johannes. Col. A§. 1610, p. 238, with Abbot’s
Antilogia, fob 1 32 b. List of Fines, ..S’. P. Dam. xliii. 52.
^ At least 1 have been unable -to find any trace of its payment in
Receipt Books ol the Exchequer.
i24 THE ENFORCEMENT OF CONFORMITY. CH. v.
About the time when Pound was before the Star Chamber,
it was resolved to take another downward step in the career of
Fines for pcrsecution. In spite of the assurance given by the
recusancy Council to the CathoHc gentlemen, towards the end
quired. of 1603, it was uow determined that the fines for re-
cusancy should be again exacted from the thirteen wealthy
gentlemen who were liable to pay 20/. a month. The un-
fortunate men had given no pretext for this harsh treatment.
It is quite possible that James’s only motive was his extreme
want^ Still there was much wanting to fill up the measure of
the Elizabethan persecution. Thirteen persons alone suffered,
whilst as yet no step was taken to trouble those who were not
possessed of sufficient wealth to expose them to the monthly
fine.
I f Silch half-measures could not last long. Those who were
most ooneemed in Watching the course taken by the Govern-
inent must have known that at any moment they might be
exposed to all the weight of the old system, the teirors of which
were still suspended over their heads. An event which occurred
in the beginning of 1605 brought the blow down upon them.
Towards the end of 1604 Sir James Lindsay was ready to
proceed to Rome. He had been well received by James, who
Nov. 28. granted him a pension, and he was entrusted
Lfoiiygoes general messages of civility to the Pope, which
to Rome. were backed by the paper of instructions — a copy
of which must have found its way to Rome some months
previously.^ As he was on his journey, he gave out that he
w'as employed by James to carry a message to the Pope, though
he acknowledged that he was not travelling in any public
capacity.^ On his arrival, he saw Cardinal Aldobrandino, who
^ The date of the restimption of these payments is Nov. 28, 1604,
though the measure may have been resolved on some little time before.
The fact that the fines were renewed before the payments for lands were
demanded, is placed beyond doubt by the Receipt Books of the Ex-
chequer. They were paid by the same thirteen persons who had paid at
James’s accession, and were reckoned from the 30th of July, the day of
the pardon ot arrears.
2 Having been delivered by Parry to the Nuncio at Paris. See p. 14 1.
* This seems to be the best way of reconciling the statement of Parry
P, Ft. Jan. 9, 1605), who says that in Germany and Savoy Lindsay
i6o4 L/yDSAV’S MlSS/Oy 225
introduced him to the Pope.^ According to a report which
reached Paris, he gave out, not only that the Queen was already
a Catholic in heart, but that James was ready to follow her ex-
ample if only he could have enlightenment on some particular
points, such as that of the Pope’s supremacy over kings. Ac-
cording to his own account, he did not say a word beyond his
instructions.® But James’s language varied from time to time,
and he had often used phrases bearing a meaning much stronger
than he would have been ready deliberately to assent to. At
all events, the Pope gathered from Lindsay that something
might be done w'ith James. With his fervent hope
The Pope of winning back England to the See of Rome, and
his ignorance of the real feelings of Englishmen,
England, ready to catch at the slightest symptom of a
change. There was a passage in the instructions which may
have been sufficient for a sanguine mind, especially when it
had received the assistance of Lindsay’s comments. James had
declared that he would never reject reason when he heard it,
and that he would never be deterred by his own ‘ pre-occupied
self-opinion ’ from receiving anything which might be proved
to be ‘lawful, reasonable, and without corruption.’ Clement
had heard something very like this before. In the mouth of
Henry IV. such words had been the precursors of conversion ;
why should not the same thing take place again ? The Pope
was overjoyed : he immediately appointed a committee of
twelve cardinals for the purpose of taking into consideration the
condition of England.^ Cardinal Camerino talked of sending
to the King a copy of Baronius’s huge ‘ Church History,’ which,
uncritical as it was, was regarded at Rome as establishing
had qualified himself ‘with the title of His Majesty’s Ambassador,’ with
Lindsay’s own declaration at Venice, that he had no commission from the
King. — Villeroi to Beaumont, Dec. ^ 1604. King’s A/SiS’., 127, fol. 77.
* Aldobrandino to the King, Jan. 1605, S. P. Italy.
23j
® Lindsay to the King, Jan. 1605, S. P. Italy, Compare Villeroi
to Beaumont, Dec. ^ 1604. Ktn^s MSS. 127, fol. 77.
* With Lindsay’? letter, compare Parry to Cranborne, Feb. 7 {true
date, dated in orig. Jan. 7), 1605, S. P. France,
VOL. I. Q
226 THE ENFORCEMENT OF CONFORMITY, CH. v.
the claims of the Popes upon a thoroughly nistorical basis. ^
Pope ordered that prayers, in which he himself joined with great
earnestness, should be offered up for the welfare of the King and
for the conversion of England.^ Idndsay was informed that
the Cardinals had recommended that some one should be sent
to England, but that they had not been able to decide whether
they should send ‘a legate, a nuncio, or some secular gentleman.’
James was greatly annoyed.® For a week or two all Europe
believed that he was about to renounce his faith. He im-
mediately directed his ambassador at Paris to declare
that he had no intention of changing his religion. If
James. the Nuncio brought him Cardinal Camerino’s present
he was to take it rather than give offence by refusing ; but he
believed that it was all a trick to make men suppose that he was
engaged in secret negotiations with Rome.
These rumours reached England at an unfortunate time.
During the winter James had been employing his energies in
his attempt to suppress Puritanism, and was therefore already
labouring under a suspicion of a leaning towards Popery.'* All
in whom he reposed confidence, and who were not either
openly or secretly Catholic, wished for the re-imposition of the
fines. “I love not,” wrote Cranborne, a little after this time, “ to
yield to any toleration ; a matter which I well know no creature
living dare propound to our religious sovereign. I will be much
less than I am or rather nothing at all, before I shall ever
become an instrument of such a miserable change.”-^ James’s
* See Pattison’s Casaubon, 362.
- Lindsayto the King, , 1605, S. P. Italy. For Lindsay’s account
of himself, see also Lindsay to Semple, Sept. 18, 1605, S. P. Spain.
3 Henry IV. told the Nuncio Barberini that James had spoken to his
ambassador as if the affair of Lindsay was his principal grievance. Barbe-
rini to Valenti, May Roman Transcripts., R, 0 ,
^ “I wish, with all my heart, that the like order were taken, and given
not only to all bishops, but to a magistrates and justices, to proceed
against Papists and recusants, who, of late, partly by this round dealing
against Puritans, and partly by reason of some extraordinary favour, have
grown mightily in number, courage, and influence. ’’-—Archbp. Hutton to
Cranborne, Dec. 18, 1604, Wimv. ii. 40.
" Cranborne to Hutton, Feb. Lod§e., iii. 125.
i 6 o 5 the EECUSAHCV ACTS ENFORCED,
227
principles were once more tried, and they gave way beneath
the test. He would prove the purity of the motives which led
him to persecute the Puritans by adding to his offence the per-
secution of the Catholics also.
He made his determination known on February 10. On
that day he was to address the Council on the subject of the
He deter- Northamptonshire petition. “ From the Puritans,”
bfotcfthr by wbo was probably an eye-witness
penal laws, scene, “he proceeded to the Papists, pro-
testing his utter detestation of their superstitious religion, and
that he was so far from favouring it as, if he thought that his
son and heir after him would give any toleration thereunto,
he would wish him fairly buried before his eyes. Besides, he
charged the Lords of the Council and the Bishops present that
they should take care themselves, and give order to the judges
of the land, to the justices and other inferior officers, to see
the laws speedily executed with all rigour against both the said
extremes.” ^ Three days later, the Chancellor charged the judges
to put the laws into execution at the ensuing assizes, only taking
care to shed no blood. A similar intimation was conveyed, by
the Recorder of London, to the Lord Mayor and Aldermen.
The effect of these admonitions was not long in show'ing
itself. On the dav after the Lord Mayor had been informed
of the King’s wishes, forty-nine persons were indicted at the
sessions which were then being held for London and Middlesex.
In different parts of England five thousand five hundred and
sixty persons were convicted of recusancy.^
It must not, however, be supposed that anything like this
number were actually called upon to surrender the two-thud?
^ of their lands required by the law. Large numbeis
actually bought themsclves off by giving a small bribe to one
levied. other of the King’s Scottish favourites who were
mostly favourable to the Catholics, or even by offering to the
1 tQ the Bishop of Norwich, Feb. 14, 1605. 2nd ser. iii,.
215. Chamberlain to Winwood, Feb. 16, 1605, JVmw, ii. 48, In th-'
printed copy the date is incorrectly given as Feb. 26.
2 See the papers printed in Tierney’s DoH. iv. App. xcii. The originals
are in the S. P. Dorn. xii. 80 and liv. 65. Mr. Tierney has ante-dated the
Q2
228 THE ENFORCEMENT OF CONFORMITY. CH. v.
King himself a payment less than that which the law allowed
him to take.^ The number of those who paid the full two-
thirds, in consequence of these indictments, was one hundred
and twelve. There were also sixty-five persons whose lands
had been previously sequestered. The rents of the lessees of
these lands had been allowed to fall into arrear, and these
arrears were now demanded. In the year 1606, when these
arrangements had come into full operation, many of those
whose lands had paid in the previous years were exempted
from payment. The total number of persons whose lands were
charged in that year was one hundred and sixty-two. Of this
number, twenty-eight had paid even in the exceptional year
1604, forty- two had been liable to pay, but had been excused,
and the remaining ninety-two had been fresh additions to
the list since the spring of 1605.^ The amount received
from this source, which in 1604 had been 1,132/., rose in 1606
to 4,397/.
first of these papers by a year. The latter, which is placed in the calendar
among the undated papers of 1606, may be restored to its true place by
comparing it with v. 73 ; the date of which is fixed, by the mention of
Pound, to the spring of 1605.
* News fiom London, Sept. ~ Roman Transcriffs, R 0 .
^ These calculations are based upon the Receipt Books of the Ex-
chequer. The difficulty of collecting so many names and figures from a
serie'5 of accounts extending over six thick folio volumes, is so great that
it is quite possible that a few names may have escaped me. I am, how-
ever, sure that any errors of this kind are not of sufficient consequence to
affect the substantial accuracy of the results. The subsequent calculations
have been made in the following manner : — In 1604, 37 persons were
charged, and arrears were afterwards pa’d by the lessees of the lands of
65 persons. Two names appear in both lists, being charged for different
pieces of lands. Accounting for these, we have a total of 100, as the
number of those liable previously to February 1605. Of these, 70 only
reappear in 1606, and there are 92 new names. In 1605, there were 38
new names, of which 18 reappear in 1606, and 20 do not reappear. Add-
ing this 20 to 92, we have 112 as the highest possible number of persons
losing their lands in consequence of indictments in 1605. Persons indicted
after Easter 1606 would not be liable to payment till after Easter 1607.
On the other hand, it is not impossible that some of these 112 may have
been possessed of lands which had been leased out in the Queen’s times,
f6o5 THE RECUSANCY ACTS ENFORCED, 229
Besides these additions to the list of those who were liable
to payments for land, one name had been added to those wha
were called upon for the statutary fine of 20/. a month. The
number of those who made this high payment was now fourteen,
till the death of Sir Thomas Tresham, in September 1605, again
reduced it to thirteen.^
A smaller amount was obtained by the seizure of the goods
and chattels of recusants. This in 1605 reached 368/., in
1606 472/. It must have been a particularly annoying mode
of obtaining money ; and it is plain, from the smallness of the
sums which were levied from each person, that it was regarded
as a means of rendering the poor Catholics as uncomfortable as
possible.
The arrears which were called for in 1605 ^ reached the sum
of 3,394/. ; but as the yearly or half-yearly rent due in that
year was reckoned together with the payments which had lapsed
in former years, a sum of 2,000/. will be more than enough to
cover all that can properly be called arrears.
though for some reason they had not paid in 1604, and had not been called
upon for arrears. These arrears were, of course, paid by the lessees,
though they probably fell eventually on the owners. Mr. Jardine’s figures,
{Narrative^ p. 19) are quite erroneous. He must have been led astray by
some inefficient copyist ; as the figures in the MS. from which they are
taken are quite plainly written ; see Notes and Queries^ 2nJ series, ix. 317.
^ Though sixteen were liable, only thirteen had actually paid at any
time since James’s accession.
' In this statement, the years mentioned are financial years, commencing
on Easter-day. I have no wish to say anything which may diminish the
reprobation with which the whole system must be regarded, but it is cer-
tainly rather curious to contrast the real facts of the case with the exagge-
rations of Lingard, who has been more or less closely followed by succeeding
writers. He says that the 20/. fines were demanded, ‘ not only for the
time to come, but for the whole period of the suspension ; ’ that ‘ the least
default in these payments subjected the recusant to the forfeiture of all his
goods and chattels, and of two-thirds of his lands.’ What happened was
bad enough, but the 20/. men were never called upon for arrears, and, as
far as I have been able to trace the names, the forfeitures of goods and
chattels were only demanded from those from whom no lands had been
seized. Mr. Jardine, amongst others, adopted these erroneous statements,
Narrative of the Gunpowder Plot^ 23.
2J0 THE ENFORCEMENT OF CONFORMITY. CH. v.
The Catholic gentry must have been especially aggrieved
b> the knowledge that much of the money thus raised w^ent
into the pockets of courtiers. For instance, the profits of the
lands of two recusants w^ere granted to a footman,^ and this was
by no means an isolated case.
If the victims were dissatisfied, zealous Protestants, on the
other hand, doubted whether enough had been done. When
r t tant leaving London for the summer
view of the assizes, James again laid his commands upon them
not to spare the Papists. Upon this. Sir Henry
Neville 2 wrote to a friend, telling him that it was ‘generally
feared that there ’ would ‘ be none of the priests executed, with-
out which,’ he doubted, ‘ all the other provision ’ would ‘ be
fruitless ; for they are the root and fountain of all the mischief.’
. . . “For my part,” he proceeded to write, “ I am persuaded
they are irrecoverable, and will never be satisfied nor made
sure to the State unless they have their whole desire at the
full. And, however they pretend now to seek only impunity, yet,
that obtained, assuredly they will not rest there, till they have
obtained a further liberty. Therefore, if we mean not to grant
all, we were as good deny all, and put them to an issue betimes,
either to obey or not, lest it break out alieniore tevipre^ when
they be more prepared, and we peradventure entangled in some
other business.”
The equal repression of Puritans and Catholics, the old
policy of Elizabeth, which James now adopted, ^vas the policy
favoured by Cranborne. That statesman, so energetic and
diligent, but with so little power of forecasting the future, stood
higher than ever in his master’s favour. On May 4, 1 605, he w^as
created Earl of Salisbury, in reward for his many services.
Thus ended this attempt at toleration, the first made
* Worcester to the Council, June 17, 1605 ; S. F. Dom. xiv. 43. The
money was not given to the grantee till after it had been paid into the
Exchequer, so that the owner of the land possibly knew nothing of his own
particular case ; but he must have had a general knowledge of these pro-
ceedings.
^ Neville to Winwood, Wimv.. ii. 77,
23 ‘
l6os PROSPECTS OF TOLERATION.
by any English Government James I. had given way, partly
difficulties doubt through lack of firmness- But, in the
in the way main he had succumbed to the real difficulties of the
of toleration.
Situation.
The Catholics were no petty sect to wffiich a contemptuous
toleration might be accorded. They were still a very consider-
able portion of the community, even if the calculation frequently
made at that time, that they amounted to one-third of the
population, be discarded as a gross exaggeration. No doubt,
to the majority of the Catholic laity, smarting under recent per-
secution, the calm upon which they had entered soon after the
King’s accession, was sufficient gain. But to the clergy it could
not be so. The priests were men who had hazarded their lives to
disseminate that which they believed to be divine truth, pure
and undefiled. They could not be content now with the mere
edification of their existing congregations. They would feel
themselves to be base indeed if they did not fulfil the mission
on which they had come. Yet,, as the number of Catholics in-
creased — when the fear of persecution was removed it was cer-
tain to increase— it would not be the mere growth of an obnoxious
religion with which a Protestant Government would find itself
confronted. I’he Church which these men joined was pledged
to change the moral and intellectual atmosphere in which
Englishmen moved and breathed. Neither freedom of thought
nor political liberty had as yet reached their perfect develop-
ment in England, but it was beyond doubt that the victory of
the Papacy would extinguish both. Even the received maxims
of the nineteenth century would hardly be proof against a
demand for toleration put forward by a community which
itself refused toleration to all those principles on which
our society is based, if it had any chance of acquiring sufficient
strength to employ against others that persecution which in its
own case it deprecated. The one condition which renders
toleration possible is a sense of security ; either from the over
whelming strength of those who have the power to persecute,
or from the existence of a general opinion adverse to the em-
ployment of force in the suppression of opinion. It is certain
that in the England of the opening of the seventeenth century
253 THE ENFORCEMENT OF CONFORMITY. CH. v.
no such condition was present No general feeling in favour
of toleration existed. Whether English Protestantism were
strong enough to defy the Papacy and all its works may be a
question to which different answers may be given, but there
can be no doubt that those who were intrusted with its guar-
dianship did not feel confident of the results if it were left un-
supported by the State. For a quarter of a century the tide of
the Catholic reaction had been flowing steadily on upon the
Continent. In Germany and in France the Jesuits had been
gaining ground persistently, and those who governed England
were detemiined that, as far as in them lay, it should not be so
here.
If we may fairly regret that the National Church had not
been able to enlarge its borders in accordance with the advice
given by Bacon and the House of Commons, it was well that
the favoured portion of it should be that which was unhampered
by the petty susceptibilities of the lower Puritanism. A great
intellectual struggle with Rome was impending, a struggle
which must be conducted on other lines than those which had
sufficed for the reasoners of the preceding century. It would
not now suffice to meet dogmatism with dogmatism. The
learning of Baronius and Bellarmine must be met with a deeper^
wider learning than theirs ; by a more accurate knowledge of
the history of the past, by a finner grasp on the connection of
truth, and on the realities of human nature. It was perhaps
inevitable that those who were preparing themselves for this
work, should be repelled by the narrowness of contemporary
Puritanism, and should not perceive that they too represented
a phase of religion which the Church could ill afford to be
without.
As yet the evil was not great. The Calvinistic doctrines
were not proscribed. There was no very strict inquisition into
the absolute conformity of a minister with every minute require-
ment of the rubrics, provided that he conformed on those points
which had recently attracted attention. The Church under
James was still in the main a national one. But the danger of its
becoming a sectional Church was there, partly because after
the cessation of danger from without men’s minds were inclined
i6o4
THE CHURCH OF ENGLAND,
233
to follow divergent courses, partly because the Church had
attached itself to the State, and in James’s hands the State
was already becoming less broadly national than it had been in
the days of Elizabeth.
It was this danger which was the main result of the Hamp-
ton Court Conference. The teaching of an age will always
reflect its sentiments as well as its knowledge. James had
now ruled that those who shared in those sentiments should
be excluded from teaching. The Church of England was net
to be quite as comprehensive as Bacon wished it to be. If it
should come to pass that a Sovereign arose who wished it to
be less comprehensive still, it might go hard with that Sover-
eign. It may be that the course taken would ultimately have
been inevitable, that it would have been impossible to provide
any organization in which such a man as Whitgift could have
worked harmoniously with such a man as Cartw’right. But if
this were the case, some place must be found for the proscribed
elements. If the Church was to cease to be comprehensive it
must become tolerant. Men must agree to wmrship separately
in peace if they cannot agree to wrorship peacefully together.
A system in w'hich an established Church is surrounded by
independent tolerated churches may not be ideally perfect, and
even in England it is not likely to hold its owm for ever. But it
was the only solution of the problem fitted for the seventeenth
century when once Bacon’s solution had been rejected. It
gave to the national religion in a new way that combination of
organization with individual liberty which Bacon had seen to
be indispensable. In the development of this religious liberty
the Catholics, little as they knew it, w'ere even more deeply
interested than the Puritans. Only when the two parties which
divided Protestant England were pacified, either by peaceful
union or peaceful separation, wmuld they feel themselves strong
enough to tolerate an enemy so formidable as the Church of
Rome.
CHAPTER Vi.
GUNPOWDER PLOT.
The renewal of the persecution of the Catholics may appeal
to the historian to be the inevitable result of the claim of the
Pope to universal authority, under the conditions of
the times. It was not likely to appear in that light
Catholics. Catholics themselves. They would see no
more than the intolerable wTongs under which they suffered ;
and it would be strange if there were not some amongst them
who would be driven to meet wrong with violence, and to
count even the perpetration of a great crime as a meritorious
deed.
Robert Catesby, who was possibly a convert from Protes-
tantism, was a man capable of becoming the leader in any
action requiring clearness of head and strength of
Catesby. ^ leader of men, and had the rare
gift of a mind which drew after it all wills in voluntary submission.
At the end of Elizabeth’s reign he had despatched to Spain
Thomas Winter, in company -with the Jesuit Green-
winter’s -r., -1- 1 • T
mission to way, to Urge Philip to send an invading force to
Spam. England. He \vas to assure the Spaniards that they
would not want allies amongst the warlike companions of Essex,
who had now lost hope of employment after the Earl’s death.
Philip and Lerma adopted the proposal, and promised Winter
to send a force to Milford Haven in the spring of 1605. Then
came the death of the Queen, Catesby sent another of his
friends, named Christopher Wright, to Spain, to know
No help to ^ .
be expected if there was Still any hope of Spanish intervention,
from Spam, report that there was
none. The Spaniards were all bent on peace with Janies.^
* T. Winter’s declaration, Nov. 26, 1605, Hatfield MSS. 112, fol. 91.
l6o^
THE ORIGINATION OF THE PLOT
235
By the time that this news reached Catesby, James had
arrived in England, and under pressure of the Privy Council
May 1603 given orders for the first temporary collection of
Catesby the Recusancy fines. As Catesby brooded over the
S^rof th?* wrongs of his Church — wrongs which were made the
more palpable to him by the fact that so many of his
kinsmen and friends were suffering by those evil laws — the idea
arose within him, though we cannot tell how far it was as yet de-
fined in his mind, of righting the grievous wrong by destroying
both the King and Parliament by means of gunpowder, and of
establishinga Catholic Government in their place. Perhaps the
design had not completely taken shape when, one day, a Catholic
Pg,.(.y friend, Thomas Percy, rushed into his room. Percy was
SdeTthe ^ relative of the Earl of Northumberland, and, at this
King. time, was acting as his steward. Through him James,
whilst yet in Scotland, had conveyed assurances of relief to the
English Catholics. He now believed himself to have been a
dupe whose easy credulity had held back his co-religionists from
active measures. He angrily told Catesby that he had resolved
to kill the King. “ No, Tom,” was the reply, “ thou shalt not
adventure to small purpose ; but, if thou wilt be a traitor, thou
shalt be to some great advantage.” Catesby added that ^ he
was thinking of a most sure way,’ and would soon let him know
what it was.^
A few weeks later matters looked brighter for the Catholics,
In July their fines were suspended, and during the remainder
’ Garnet’s declaration, March 8, 1606, Haijidd MSS., no, fol. 30.
This valuable paper throws back the original conception of the plot nine
or ten months earlier than has hitherto been, supposed. It is true that
Garnet expressly said, in a subsequent examination of March 10 {Hatfield
MSS., no, fol. 35) : “I never was told, nor can imagine, when or where
Percy moved the matter first, for all my knowledge came by a sudden and
short relation by Mr. Greenwell,” i.e. Greenway ; but the reference to
Percy, at the time of bis visit to Catesby, as one * who, having been sent
into Scotland to his Majesty by the Catholics to sue fur toleration, and
affirming here that the king had given his princely word to that effect, and
seeing the same here not performed, was very much discontented,’ can
only apply to the time of the first imposition of the fines by Janie? in May,
1603.
236 GUNPOWDER PLOT. cn. vi.
of the year a more tolerant system was established. So far
as we know, Catesby said no more about his plan,
The plot and may possibly have intended to let it sleep, unless
5Ui.pended. changes for the worse took place in the policy
Flb°t2 King. That change came in February 1604.
Effect of the The proclamation for the banishment of the priests
proclamation . - . • i i .
against the was HOt indeed carried into execution at the time,
priests. seemed, to a mind so sensitive as
that of Catesby to the warnings of impending danger, to be
ominous of evil days in store.
A few days after the issue of the proclamation,^ Thomas
Winter, who was on a visit to his brother Robert, at Hudding-
winter ton, in the neighbourhood of Worcester, received a
letter from his cousin, Catesby, entreating him to
by Catesby. meet him in London on business of importance.
After some hesitation, he consented. He found Catesby at
He finds Lambeth, in company with* John Wright, who had
Wn^bt^ for many years been one of his most intimate asso-
ciates. On Winter’s arrival, Catesby begged him to
join in striking one more blow for the Catholic cause. He
told him that he had formed a design which could scarcely fail
Catesby success. He proposed to blow up the Parliament
proposes to House with gunpow^der. God w^ould surely favour
blow up the , , , . , , ,
Parliament them in taking vengeance upon that accursed den
H< use. whence had issued all the evils under which the
country and the Church w'ere suffering. Winter acknowledged
that such a course would strike at the root of the evil, but re-
minded him that in case of failure ‘ the scandal w^ould be so
great which the Catholic religion might hereby sustain, that not
only our enemies, but our friends also, w^ould with good reason
condemn us.’ It does not seem to have occurred to him that
the scandal would be at least- as great if they succeeded.
Catesby, with that strange power of fascination which he exer-
cised over all with whom he came in contact, soon put an end
* It was in the beginning of Lent. Conf. of T. Winter, Nov. 23, G»n-
fmvder Plot Book, This collection, kept apart amongst the State Papers,
will hereafter be designated as G. P. B. In 1604 Ash Wednesday fell on
the 22nd of February, the day of the issue of the proclamation.
i6o4
THE OATH OF SECRECY
237
to his hesitation. Winter did not leave him until he had given
him a promise to risk his life in this or in any other design
upon which his cousin might determine.
It was probably in deference to Winter’s scruples that
Catesby consented to his going over to Flanders, in order to
obtain an interview with the Constable of Castile,
Winter sent „ , ,
into who then was on his way to England to take part m
the negotiations for peace. He was to attempt to
secure his intervention with the King on behalf of the English
Catholics. If he was unsuccessful— and it is plain that Catesby
had no great hopes from that quarter — Winter was to engage
the services of an Englishman who w'as then in Flanders, and
whose known character for courage and skill were such as to
make him a desirable acquisition to the plotters. This English-
man was Guido Fawkes.
Winter left England early in April. ^ He obtained nothing
but vague promises from the Constable ; and from all that he
heard, he came to the conclusion that but little re-
liance could be placed upon the Spanish Government.
Towards the end of the month he returned, bringing Fawkes
with him, who had agreed to come, on the general information
^jnter some design had been formed of which he was
£Tes to hereafter to learn the particulars. Soon after Winter’s
England, retum, Percy, who seems not to have been acquainted
before with the particulars of Catesby’s scheme, appeared
Accession of the four conspirators. His first w'ords as he
Percy to entered the room in which they w^ere sitting w^ere,
“ Shall we al'ways, gentlemen, talk, and never do any-
thing?” Catesby took him aside and proposed that they
should all join in taking an oath of secrecy before he disclosed
its particulars. For this purpose, these five men met shortly
May. afterwards in a house behind St. Clements, where they
Tn Sth of swore to keep any secrets which might be confided
secrecy. ^0 them. They then went into another room in the
same house, where they found Gerard, a Jesuit priest ; ^ from
* About Easter, which fell on the 8th of April Exam, of Fawkes,
Nov. 8, 1605, G, P. B.
* Fawkes’s Exam. Nov. 9, 1605, ( 7 , P. 5 ,
23S
GUNPOWDER PLOT,
CH. VI
v'hose hands, having first heard mass, they received the Sacra-
ment as an additional confirmation of their oath. He was,
however, as there can be little doubt, left in ignorance ^ of the
plot. As soon as they were again alone, Percy and Fawkes
were made acquainted with the proposed scheme. It was
May 24. ^ building abutting upon the Parliament
A house House should be hired by Percy. Fawkes who, from
taken. absence from England was not in danger of
being recognised, assumed the character of Percy’s servant, and
took the name of John Johnson. The agreement for the lease
of the house was signed on May 24.
Shortly after the prorogation, the five plotters separated and
went into the country, having first agreed to meet in London at
Michaelmas, It was then understood that Parliament would
assemble in February 1605, and the conspirators calculated that
’Deterioration ^his would give them ample time for their preparations.
s^tttSfthe ^^ring these months of waiting the position of the
c^ithoiics. Catholics was rapidly deteriorating. In July the
King had given his consent to the new Recusancy Act. In
August it was put in force by some of the judges. In the be-
ginning of September the commission was issued for the banish-
ment of the priests. When, therefore, the conspirators returned
to London in the autumn, their zeal was not likely to be blunted,
and the imposition of the fines on the wealthy Catholics in
November must have seemed to them to fill up the measure of
James’s guilt’ In order to have a second place in which to
collect the necessary materials, they hired the house at Lambeth
in which Catesby usually lodged. They gave it into the charge
of Robert Keyes, ^ a gentleman who had been living at the house
’ Those who distrust the evidence of Fawkes, of Winter, and of Gerard
hiraself in his autobiography, may give weight to Gerard’s statement, that
he never knew of the plot till it was publicly known, as this statement was
made to the Rector of the English College at Rome in consequence of an
order from the General of the Society upon his obedience.— Fitzherbert to
Sniith, March 15, 1631 ; Morris, Condition of Catholics, ccxlv.
® Keyes’s examination, Nov. 30, G,P. B. He there says that he was
informed a little before Midsummer.
!6o4
7 HZ MINE COMMENCED,
239
of Lord Mordaunt, at Turvey in Bedfordshire, where his wife
had the charge of the education of the children. He, too, was
informed of the plot, and sworn to secrecy. When the time
for commencing operations arrived, Fawkes was sent to London
to examine the ground. He found that the house which Percy
had taken had been selected by the Commissioners for the
Union as the place in which their meetings should be held.
This unexpected obstacle delayed the progress of the scheme
till December ii. As soon as the conspirators obtained access
Dec. II. to the house they commenced their labours, and by
begin Christmas Eve they succeeded in removing the ob-
““le* Stacies which separated them from the lower part oi
the wall of the Parliament House.
As was natural, they often talked over their plans during
the intervals of work. They sincerely hoped that Prince Henry,
Plans of the King^s eldest son, might be with his father at the
conspirators, opening of the session, in which case he w’ould be in-
volved in a common destruction with him. Percy, who was now
a gentleman pensioner, and, as such, had access to the Court,
promised to secure the person of Prince Charles, who had re-
cently been created Duke of York. The Princess Elizabeth —
with the exception of an infant princess, the only other child of
the King— was being brought up in the family of Lord Haring-
ton, at Combe Abbey, in the neighbourhood of Coventry, and
she was consequently within reach of the residence of Catesby’s
mother, at Ashby St Legers, in Northamptonshire. This would
make it comparatively easy to obtain possession of the child.
‘With this advantage, and with a little money and a few horses,
these sanguine dreamers fancied that they would have the
whole of England at their feet
Whilst they w^ere still working at the wall, news was brought
to them that Parliament was prorogued till October. Upon
Robert
Winter and
John Grant
informed of
the plot.
this they determined to give themselves a little rest
During this interval Catesby went to Oxford, and
sent for Winter’s elder brother, Robert, and for John
Grant, who had married a sister of the Winters. ‘
‘ T^ov. 30, 1605, G, P, B. Examination of J. Grant, Jan. 17, i6o6,
240
GUNPOWDER PLOT,
CH. VL
Robert Winter’s house at Huddington, and Grant’s house at
Norbrookj in Warwickshire, were admirably suited for the
carrv'ing out of their future operations. After swearing them to
secrecy, Catesby told them what he was doing. Winter made
seveial objections, but Catesby’s irresistible powers of persuasion
were again brought into exercise, and Winter left him saying
that it was a dangerous matter, but for his oath’s sake, and for
the love that he bore to his cousin, he would not reveal it.
Bates joins Catesby’s servant, had been already admitted
tke plotters, secret. His master, seeing that he was evi-
dently suspicious of what he heard and saw, thought it prudent
to confide the whole matter to him ; ^ but he was never allowed
to take any prominent part in the conspiracy.
In the beginning of February, by which time the w^hole
system of recusancy fines was once more in full swing, the plotters
Feb. 1605. again commenced operations. Finding the work as
Wright’s brother Chris-
admitted. topher, to share it with them. His devotion to the
cause was well known, and they were certain to find in him a
G. P. B. R. Winter to the Lords Commissioners, Jan. 21, 1606,
6’. P. B,
* In his Examination (Dec. 4, 1605, G. P. B.) he said that he was
told about a fortnight less than a twelvemonth ago.
A CELLAR HIRED,
241
1605
faithful confedetate. They sent for the gunpowder which was
stored at Lambeth, and were thereby enabled to release Keyes
from his duty of watching it, and to employ him in digging at
the wall. In spite of all difficulties, they worked on for another
fortnight It was not an easy task, getting through nine feet of
wall. Besides their other difficulties, the water flowed in and
hindered them in their work. About the middle of the month
they again desisted from their labour.
Two or three weeks later they prepared for another effort.
One day as they were working, a rustling sound was heard.
March Terrified lest their proceedings had been discovered,
The con- they sent Fawkes to find out the cause of the noise.
He returned with the intelligence that it proceeded
from a Mrs. Bright, who was selling off her stock
them. Qf coals in an adjoining cellar. This cellar, as they
found, ran under the Parliament House, so that it would be
exactly suited for their object. Mrs. Bright agreed to sell the
lease to them. This lease she held from a man named Whyn-
niard, who was also the landlord of Percy’s house. Percy told
him that he required additional accommodation for his coals,
as he intended to bring his wife to London.
Their work being thus lightened, they proceeded to open a
door between the house and the cellar,^ through which Fawkes
carried the twenty barrels of powder which had been brought
from Lambeth. He placed upon the barrels several bars of
iron, in order to increase the effect of the explosion. The whole
was covered over with a thousand billets of wood and five
hundred faggots. As soon as this was done, they all dis-
persed till October, when they expected that Parliament would
meet.
During the course of the summer, the growing discontent of
the Catholics may be traced by the renewal of the informations
June. which from time to time reached the Government of
Snong?he suppressed dissatisfaction which here and there
Catholics, came to the surface. Men went about with wild talk
of insurrections and revolutions, and predicted to their Protes
Examination of Fawkes, Nov. 5 and 6, 1605, G. F. P,
VOL I.
R
242
GUNPOWDER PLOP
CIL VI.
tant neighbours the near approach of the day when blood would
again flow for the cause of Holy Church,^ Amongst the Welsh
mountains Catholic priests preached to large congregations.^
In Herefordshire, the Sheriff came into actual collision with
a body of Catholics, who were especially numerous in that
county.^ In August and September, in spite of the King’s
charge, three lav'iiien were executed for attempting to convert
their neighbours.'^
Meanwhile the conspirators had not been idle. When they
left London in the spring, Fawkes was sent over to Flanders,
Proceedings where he imparted the plot to the Jesuit Owen, who
of Fawkes, « seemed wcli pleased with the business.’® He ad-
vised him not to acquaint Sir William Stanley with the con-
spiracy, but promised that as soon as it had taken effect, he
would inform him of all the particulars, and would engage his
assistance in the- insurrection which was expected to break out
in England. Fawkes returned to London about the end of
August.
At this time, Lord Arundel of Wardour, a Catholic noble-
man, who had seen much service on the Contirient, was levying
and a body of men in England for the service Of the
CatesBy. Archduke. In forwarding this object, Catesby was
particularly busy. He contrived that several of the officers
should be appointed from amongst his friends,® and entered
into an understanding with them that they should be ready to
return to England whenever the Catholic cause required their
assistance. ' In September, he sent a certain Sir Ed-
Septembsr. , _ , ^ i -r. -r •
mund Baynham on a mission to the Pope. It is
doubtful how far the particulars of the plot were revealed to
him. He was to be on the spot, in order that, as soon as the
^ Depositions as to seditions speeches uttered by John Parker, Aug. 31,
1605, P. Dorn, XV. 43.
2 Barberini to Valenti, Sept. ~ Roman Tramcripts^ R. 0 .
® Bishop of Hereford to Salisbury, June 22, 1605, S, P. Dom. xiv. 52.
. Challoner’s Missionary Priests.
'5 X. Winter’s Confession, Nov. 23, G. P, B.
« Jarcline, 61, from Greenway’s MS. Compare Birch’s Historical
VieiVi p. 2^i.‘ '
fD05 GARNET, GERARD, AND GREENWAY.
243
news arrived at Rome of the destruction of the tyrants, he
might win the Pope over to second the further efforts of the
The three couspirators. Of thc three priests who were after-
priests. wards inculpated, Gerard may perhaps have been
aware that some scheme of unusual importance was on hand,
though there is strong reason to believe that he was not made
acquainted with the particulars.^ Greenway both knew of the
plot and favoured its execution ; whilst Garnet, the Superior of
the Jesuits in England, had been acquainted with it at least
as early as in July by Greenway in confession. He always de-
nied that he looked upon the project otherwise than with the
utmost abhorrence; but circumstantial evidence leaves but
little doubt that his feelings were not quite so strongly expressed
as he afterwards represented them, and perhaps imagined them
to have been.^
In September, Winter and Fawkes were busy bringing in
fresh barrels of powder, to replace any which might have been
Parliament Spoiled by the damp.3 Towards the end of the
thfsS'S month, they heard that Parliament w^as again pro-
November. rogued to November 5 , upon which they both re-
turned to the country for a few weeks.
Whilst they were in London, circumstances occurred which
eventually ruined the whole undertaking. As long as the only
question had been the selection of men fit to take part in the
plot, Catesby’s discretion had been sufficient to guide him to
Want of the right persons ; but for the execution of their further
money. designs money was requisite as well as men, and
money was now running short with the conspirators. To en-
gage a wealthy man in the plot was as dangerous as it would
have been to engage a very poor man. From the existing
system of fines the poor suffered nothing, because they had
nothing to lose ; the rich suffered little because they could
afford to pay. Nevertheless it was a risk which must be run.
Without horses and arms and ready money no insurrection
See p. 238.
2 The question of Garnet’s complicity will be discussed when his trial
comes under review.
« Examination of Fawkes, Nov. 8, 1605, G. P, B,
244
GUNPOWDER PLOT.
CH. VI.
had a chance of success, and for these requisites the pockets of
the conspirators were unable to supply the necessary funds.
In the course of September, Percy met Catesby at Bath, where
the two friends discussed the difficult question together.^ It
was at last decided that Catesby should be intrusted with the
selection of persons to whom he might confide the secret His
choice fell upon three men, two of them. Sir Everard Digby and
Ambrose Rokewood, were very young ; it was perhaps hoped
that their youth would render them sufficiently enthusiastic to
set aside prudential considerations. The third, Francis Tresham,
was indeed older, but his wealth offered a powerful inducement
to men with whom money was an object ; and his participation
in previous intrigues gave some guarantee that he would not
be unwilling to engage in the present design.^
Ambrose Rokewood, of Coldham Hall, in Suffolk, had long
been an intimate friend and an ardent admirer of Catesby. At
Ambrose ^^st he expressed some reluctance to take part in the
Rokewood. because he feared that it would be impossible
to save those Catholic Peers who would be present at the
opening of the session. Catesby told him that a trick would be
put upon them, so that he need have no fears on that score.®
Rokewood then said that ‘ it was a matter of conscience to take
away so much blood.’ Catesby assured him that he had been
resolved by good authority that the deed was lawful, even IT
some innocent men should lose their lives together with the^
guilty. Upon this Rokewrood gave up his scruples. In order
to be at hand wffien he was wanted in November, he took a
house at Clopton, in Warwickshire.^
Early in October,® Catesby was residing with Digby in the
’ T. Winter’s Confession, Nov. 23, 1605, G. F. B.
, ’ According to Jardine, p. 62-66, Digby was tweaty-four, and Roke-
wood twenty-seven. Wood makes Tresham about thirty-eight. Ath. Ox.
Bliss, i, 755.
® Examination of Rokewood, Dec. 2, 1605, G. P, B.
* Examination of R. Wilson, Nov. 7, 1606. He says the lease was
asked for about ten days before Michaelmas.
* About Michaelmas (Examination of Sir E. Digby, Nov. 19, S. P,
Dorn. xvi. 94). About a week after Michaelmas (Examination of Sir E.
Digby, Dec. 2, G. P, B.^.
24S
ibos PREPARATIONS FOR A RISING.
neighbourliood of Wellingborough. After raising some objec-
sir Everard bons, Digby too yielded to the fascination, and threw
Digby. himself headlong into the plot. ^ A suitable house
was procured for his temporary residence at Coughton, in
Warwickshire, a place lying on the borders of Worcestershire.
What was still more to the purpose, he offered 1,500/. for the
good of the cause.
The last person to whom the secret was revealed was
'Iresham, who had, upon the death of his father in September,
‘Francis inherited the estate of Rushton, not far from Ketter-
Treshara. ^ cousin of Cutesby and the Winters,
and had taken part with them in Essex’s rebellion, as well
as in the negotiations with Spain shortly before the Queen’s
death.
There were now thirteen persons who were intrusted with
all the details of the scheme. But it was also necessary to take
^ . some measures in order that a large number of mal-
Preparations . . i i . . ,
for the in- contents might be ready to join the insurrection on the
first news from London. Accordingly, it was pro-
posed that Digby should hold a great hunting match at Dun-
church on the day of the meeting of Parliament, to which a
large company of the Catholic gentry of the Midland counties
were to be invited. If Prince Charles escaped the fate pre-
pared for his family, Percy was to snatch up the child, and to
rush with him in his arms to Worcestershire. As soon as the
news arrived that the explosion had succeeded, the gentlemen
who had come to the hunt were to be urged to seize the Princess
Elizabeth, who was at Combe Abbey, within an easy ride of
eight miles. Either she or Prince Charles was to be proclaimed
as the new Sovereign, the nation was to be won over by the an-
nouncement of popular measures, and the Protestant Church
would be at the feet of the conspirators.
In the midst of all these sanguine anticipations one difficulty
presented itself, how were the Catholic Lords to be prevented
from attending the opening of Parliament? This difficulty
had long been felt by Catesby and his companions, but it pre-
* See his letters in the Appendix to the Bishop of Lincoln’s Gunpowder
PkU 1679.
246
GUNPOWDER PLOT.
CH- VI.
sented itself with increased force as the moment for action
approached. There were those among the conspirators who
The Catho- Were Connected by special ties with some of the Peers ;
must Percy was in the service of his kinsman, the Earl of
warned. Northumberland ; Lord Mordaunt had intrusted his
children to the charge of Keyes’s wife ; Lord Stourton and Lord
Monteagle had both married sisters of Tresham. It would be
impossible for any Catholic to regard with complacency any act
which would involve in ruin Lord Montague, who had dared to
stand forth as the champion of his religion in the House of
Lords, or the young Earl of Arundel, the son of that Earl who
was honoured above all the Catholic martyrs of the reign of
Elizabeth, and who had by James’s favour been lately restored
October father’s honours. Many were the appeals which
had beenmade to Catesby, who was the guiding spirit
of the'pj6t Sometimes he answered that the nobility were but
‘ atheists, fools, and cowards ’ ; at other moments he assured his
friends that means should be taken to warn them. He had a
scheme for sending some one to inflict a slight wound on Lord
Arundel, so as to incapacitate him from leaving his house. It is
probable that many of the Catholic Peers received hints to absent
themselves from the opening of the session. But such warn-
ings could not safely be given to all. Catesby was warmly
attached to the Earl of Rutland, ‘ but it seemed then he was
contented to let him go.’ Even Catholic peeresses who came
merely to enjoy the spectacle must be sacrificed, though not with-
out compunction. Mr. Catesby, according to Garnet’s statement,
‘ could not find in his heart to go to see the Lady Derby or the
Lady Strange at their houses, though he loved them above all
others ; because it pitied him to think that they must all die.’ ^
Among the plotters was one who had never entered heart
and soul into the matter. Tresham had, by his father’s death,
Tresham Succeeded to a large family property, and the
wavers. temper of a man who has just entered into the en-
joyment of considerable wealth is by no means likely to fit him
for a conspirator. Catesby’s sagacity had here deserted him,
» Garnet’s Examination, March lo, i6o6, Hatfield MSS. no, fol. 35.
i6o5
TI^ESHA.M TUimS INFOmfSI^.
247
or had perhaps been overpowered by his eagerness to share in
Tresham’s ready money. If we are to believe Tresham him-
self,^ he at once remonstrated with his cousin^ and reminded
him that even if they succeeded they would be exposed to the
fury of the enraged nation. He pointed out to him that when
the organization of the Government was destroyed, the country
would fall into the hands of the Protestant clergy, who would
form the only organized body remaining in existence. He ap-
pears to have given way at last, and to have promised to give
2,000/. to the cause.
Tresham pleaded strongly for his brother-in-law, Lord Mon-
teagle, and when he found that the other conspirators were
Treiham unwilling to risk their lives by giving him warning, he
determines probably formed the determination to take the matter
to inform 7 , , , , ^.-r -i i 1 1 . ...
Lord Mont* into his own hands. He told them that it would be
necessary for him to go down into Northamptonshire,
in order to collect the money which they required, and he made
an appointment with Winter to meet him as he passed through
Barnet on his return, on October 28 or 29.
On the 25th, and perhaps on the 26th, he was still in
London. On one of those days, Winter came to him at his
lodgings in Clerkenwell, and obtained 100/. from him. ^ Shortly
afterwards he was on his way to Rushton.
On the 26th, Lord Monteagle ordered a supper to be pre-
pared at his house at Hoxton, although he had not been there
for more than twelve months.® He was a man who had been
* Declaration of Tresham, Nov. 13, 1605, S. P, Dorn, xvi, 63.
2 This fact, which is distinctly stated by Winter (Exam. Nov. 25,
1605, G. P. B.), seems to have been overlooked by Mr. Jaidine. It
strengthens the evidence against Tresham, as it shows that he must have
been in London within twenty-four hours of the delivery of the letter, if
he was not there on the very day. It is suspicious that while Tresham
gave rather a minute account of his proceedings, and mentioned a later
occasion on which Winter came to him for money, he never spoke of this
visit in his examinations, as if he had been unwilling to have it known
that he was in London at the time.
® Greenway ’s MS. in Tierney’s Dodd, iv. 50. The King’s History of
the Gunpowder Plot, State Trials,, ii. 195. Account of the plot drawn up
by Munck, and corrected by Salisbury, G, P. Nov. 7, 1605,
248
GUNPOWDER PLOT.
CH. VI.
closely connected with some of the principal conspirators. He
was himself a Catholic. He had been engaged in Essex’s rebel-
lion, and he had shared in promoting Winter’s journey
Oct. a6. Spain,^ It has been suspected that even at that
time he furnished information to the Government. However
this may have been, on the accession of James he gave his
whole support to the new King. His advances were accepted,
and he was admitted to high favour at Court.^
As he was sitting down to supper, one of his footmen came
in, bringing with him a letter which he had been requested to
A letter give to his master by a man whose features he had
Sd^Mont- unable to distinguish in the dark winter night,
eagle. Lord Mouteagle took the letter, and as soon as he
had glanced over it, handed it to Ward, one of the gentlemen
in his service, requesting him to read it The letter was anony-
mous, and ran as follows : —
My lord, out of the love I bear to some of your friends, I
have a care of your preservation. Therefore I would advise
you, as you tender your life, to devise some excuse to shift of
your attendance at this Parliament ; for God and man hath
concurred to punish the wickedness of this time. And think
not slightly of this advertisement, but retire yourself into your
country, where you may expect the event in safety, for though
there be no appearance of any stir, yet I say they shall receive
a terrible blow this Parliament, and yet they shall not see who
hurts them. This counsel is not to be contemned, because it
may do you good, and can do you no harm, for the danger is
* Examination of Tresham, Nov. 29, 1605, G. P. B. Note hy T.
Winter, Nov. 25, 1605, G. P. B. In the calendar, this note is said to
refer to a message ‘ relative to the plot,’ and it is appended to an exami-
nation of Winter of the same date, relating to the Gunpowder Plot. This
must be a mistake, though both papers are endorsed in the same hand-
writing, ‘’25 9*"^ 1605. The Examination of Winter.’ The two papers
themselves are not in the same handwriting, and the note evidently
relates to the Spanish plot of 1602. It must refer, not to anything in the
examination which is extant, but to a message in another which has been
lost, and which was mentioned by Tresham in his examination of Nov. 29.
* JarimSf p. 8 q,
i6os THE PLOT BETRAYED, 249
past as soon as you have burnt the letter : and I hope God will
give you the grace to make good use of it, to whose holy pioteo
tion I commend you.” ^
Monteagle at once set out for Whitehall, to communicate
the letter to the Government On his arrival he found
He taTces it Salisbury, just ready to sit down to supper in com-
t^white- pany with Nottingham, Suffolk, Worcester, and
Northampton. Monteagle immediately drew him
aside into another room, and put the letter into his hands.
Although vague rumours had already reached Salisbury’s ears
that some danger was in agitation amongst the Catholics, he
was at first inclined to think lightly of the matter but being
well aware of their discontented state, he determined to
make further inquiries. Accordingly, he called Suffolk from
the next room and put the letter before him. As they re-pe-
rused the paper, it occurred to them that it might probably refer
to some attempt at mischief by means of gunpowder. Upon
this Suffolk, to whom, as Lord Chamberlain, all the buildings
in and around the Parliament House were well known, remem-
bered that the cellar under the house would be a suitable place
for the execution of a design of this kind. As soon as Mont-
eagle had left them, they imparted the discovery to the other
three lords, who agreed that it would be proper to search the
cellar before the beginning of the session, but advised that the
search should be delayed as long as possible, in order that the
conspirators might not be scared before their plot was fully
ripe.
On the 31st, the King, who had been absent at Royston,
Oct. 31. returned to London, but it was not till Sunday,
The King November 3, that the letter was shown to him. He
Royston, at once, if we are to believe the narrative drawn up
under Salisbury’s inspection, came to the same conclusion
as that which had been come to by his ministers.^ By
^ The original is in the G. P. B. There is a copy with all the
peculiarities of spelling in Jardine, p. 82,
2 Salisbury to Cornwallis, Nov. 9, 1605, Winw, ii, 171, compared
with Munck’s account, which agrees with it in all important particulars.
® Jaroes, as is well known, took a pleasure m allowing it to be believed
GUmOWDER PLOT.
CH. VL
250
bis direction, Suffolk, in execution of his office as Lord
Chamberlain, proceeded about three o’clock on
Mid orfefs the afternoon of the following day to go round the
S? Parliament House and the adjoining buildings. In
this search he was accompanied by Monteagle, who
had joined him at his own request. Suffolk, like
the rest of the Councillors, had no very strong belief in
the reality of the plot, and was under great apprehensions lest
he should become an object of general ridicule, if the gun-
powder for which he was looking proved to be without any
real existence. He therefore gave out that he was come to
look for some stuff of the King’s which was in Whynniard’s
keeping, and, finding that Whynniard had let his cellar to
a stranger, he contented hirnself with looking into it without
entering. Seeing the piles of coals and faggots, he asked
to whoin ' they belonged. Fawkes, who had opened the
door to him, said that they belonged to Mn Thomas Percy,
one of His Majesty’s Gentlemen Pensioners. Upon hearing
Percy’s name, Suffolk suspected that there was more truth in
the story than he had previously supposed. Monteagle, pro-
bably wishing to shield Tresham, and hoping to put the
Government on a wrong scent, suggested that Percy might have
sent the letter. Upon receiving Suffolk’s report of what he had
seen, the King ordered that further search should be made,
still under the pretence of looking for the stuff which was
missing.
There was no time to be lost, as the session was to com-
mence on the following morning. About eleven at night, Sir
Discovery Thomas Kuyvett went down to the cellar. At the
door he was met by Fawkes. He stopped him, and
carefully removing the coals and wood, he came to
the barrels of gunpowder. Fawkes saw at once that the game
was up. He made no attempt to excuse himself, but confessed
that he had made the discovery himself. It was not a very difficult one to
make, and the courtiers probably were discreet enough to hold their
tongues as to the fact that they had anticipated his conclusions. On the
other hand, it was , certainly absurd to found the inference on the words
’ the danger is past as soon as you have burnt the letter.’
FAWKES CAPTURED.
1605
251
that he had intended to blow up the King and the two Houses
on the following morning. Upon this he was bound hand and
foot, and taken to Salisbury’s lodgings. Such of the Council as
could be reached at that late hour were summoned to the King’s
bedchamber. James’s first thought on hearing of the discovery
was to offer thanks to God for his deliverance. He then
directed that the I^ord Mayor should be ordered to set a watch
for the prevention of any outbreak, and that the prisoner should
be carefully guarded, in order to hinder any attempt at self-
destruction.
A question has often been raised, whether the letter received
by Monteagle was, in reality, the first intimation given to him.
^ That the writer of the letter was Tresham there can
the writer of be no reasonable doubt ^ The character of Tresham,
the letter. suspicions of his Confederates, his own account
of his proceedings, all point to him as the betrayer of the secret.
If any doubt still remained, there is the additional evidence in
the confidence which was after his death expressed by his
friends, that if he had survived the disease of which he died,
he would have been safe from all fear of the consequences of
the crime with which he was charged.^ This confidence they
could only have derived from himself, and it could only have
been founded upon one ground.
To say the least of it, it is highly probable that Monteagle
expected the letter on the evening of the 26th. He came out
Probable Unexpectedly to sup at Hoxton, where he had not
arrangement been for upwards of a twelvemonth. If there had
and^Mont-^^ been no communication between him and the writer
of the letter, how could the bearer of it know that he
would find one of Monteagle’s footmen at so unlikely a spot ?
' The whole argument is clearly given in Jardine^ pp. 83-90. The
evidence seems to warrant a stronger conclusion than that to which Mr.
Jardine arrived. It is plain, however, that no doubt remained in h's own
mind.
2 Waad to Salisbury, Dec. 23, 1605, .S'. P. Bom. xvii. 56. “ His
friends were marvellous confident if he had escaped this sickness, and
have delivered out words in this place, that they feared not the course of
justice.”
253
GUNPOWDER PLOT.
CIL VI,
Why, too, should Monteagle, instead of reading the letter him-
self, have given it to Ward to read aloud? Besides, if Tresham
had calculated upon the letter alone to deter his brother-in-law
from going down to the House, he would surely have written it
in plainer terms. ^
The probability is that Tresham, finding that he could not
persuade Catesby to give a sufficiently distinct warning to
Monteagle, sought an interview with him himself. If the object
which they both had before them was to frustrate the whole
scheme in such a manner as to allow the conspirators themselves
to escape, it is impossible to imagine a more satisfactory con-
trivance. The information given was just enough to set the
Government upon preventive measures, but not enough to
enable them to seize the culprits. By giving the letter to
Ward, Monteagle conveyed the intelligence to a man who was
likely to warn the conspirators of the discovery of their schemes;
Ward being Winter's Mend, would be certain to inform him of
what had happened.^ There could be little doubt that, upon
receipt of this intelligence, they would take to flight
^ The greater part of this argument is abridged from Mr. Jardine’s, to
which there is scarcely anything to be added, pp. 90-93.
® The excited feelings under which the letter was written, and the
desire to keep the middle ground between telling too little and telling too
much, may account for the obscurity of its style. Besides holding that
Monteagle was acquainted with Tresham’s intention of writing the letter,
Mr. Jardine adopts Green way’s opinion that the Government, or at least
Salisbury, was acquainted with the manoeuvre. “Many considerations,”
he says, “ tend to confirm the opinion expressed by Greenway in his nar-
rative, that the particulars of the plot had been fully revealed to Lord
.Salisbuiy by Monteagle, who was supposed by Green way and the con-
spirators to have received a direct communication from Tresham, and
that the letter was a mere contrivance of the Government to conceal the
means by which their information had really been obtained ” {Archcsol,
xxix. loi).
In this theory I am unable to concur. The arguments by which it is
supported seem to me to be weak, and there are difficulties in the way of
its reception which appear to be insuperable.
Mr. Jardine’s first argument is that Monteagle ‘ received 500/. per
annum for his life and 200/. in fee farm rents,’ which he considers to be
extravagant over-payment, ‘ upon the supposition that the only service he
THE CONSPIRATORS WARNED,
253
1605
Part of this scheme was successful Either by arrangement,
or in consequence of his own friendship for Winter, Ward only
Oct. 27. waited till the next day to slip round to his lodgings
w?rd in^' knew. On the following
forms morning Winter went out to White Webbs, a house
whatllad in Enfield Chase, where Catesby was to be found,
passed. entreated him to give up the enterprise, and to
leave the country. Catesby received the news with astonishing
rendered was delivering to the Council an obscure anonymous letter,
which he did not understand.’ {Ibid. p. 100.)
Surely, if the letter really was the means of discovering the plot, we
can understand that the Government wuld not have scanned very closely
the nature of the means by which they had been saved. Besides, there
were additional reasons for valuing Monteagle’s services highly. It soon
became probable that several other Catholics had received similar warnings,
more or less obscure, and of all these not one, except Monteagle, had
mentioned the matter to the Council.
Another argument used by Mr. Jardine, though he acknowledges that
it is not entitled to much weight, is, that Monteagle was one of the Com-
missioners for proroguing Parliament on October 3, though he had not
previously been employed on similar occasions. He thinks it probable
that James and his Council wished to secure the Commissioners from
being blown up on that occasion, by exposing a relative of some of the
conspirators to danger.
In the first place the conspirators wanted to blow up the King and
the Parliament, and were not likely to stoop to such small game as half a
dozen Privy Councillors ; in the second place it is admitted that whatever
Monteagle knew, he learned from Tresham. But Tresham himself knew
nothing of the plot till eleven days after the prorogation.
The only really important argument is drawn from the conduct of the
Government towards Tresham. On November 7 questions were put to
Fawkes in which the names of certain persons were proposed to him, and
he was asked whether they shared in the plot. Among these Tresham 's
name occurs. * V et, though a proclamation was issued on that very day
against the others, Tresham’s name is not mentioned in it ’ (Jardine, Nar-
rative, p. 120). On the 9th, Fawkes expressly mentioned him as an
accomplice ; yet, although he could have been arrested at any moment, he
was not brought before the Council for examination till the 12th.
This certainly would give some weight to Mr. Jardine’s theory, that
the Government wanted to spare him, if there were not very strong reasons
which make us seek for an explanation in another direction. In the first
Jplace, Suffolk’s behaviour on the 4th looks like ^ that of a man who knew
254
GUNPOWDER PLOT.
CH. VI.
coolness. He decided to wait till the 30th, when Fawkes, who
was in the country, was expected to join them. They would
then send him to examine the cellar, and they would be guided
nothing more of the plot than what was on the face of the letter. But if it
is said that Salisbury alone was behind the scenes, it remains to be shown
what conceivable motives he can have had for the part which he is sup-
posed to have acted. Can it be supposed that Tresham brought him in-
formation which was so scanty that he was unable to seize the conspirators
before their flight from London? This information, too, must have been
of such a character that, although Salisbury was able to issue a proclama-
tion for the apprehension of Percy on the 5th, he was unable to name any
of the other conspirators till the 7th. If Tresham had really come with
such a lame story as it is necessary io suppose— if he really saw Salisbury
before the 26th of October~he would immediately have been sent to the
Tower, and probably tortured till he consented to reveal the names of
bis accomplices. It is plain that, with the exception of the names of Percy
and Fawkes, not a single name was known to the Government till the
7th. And yet, it is for this that Tresham was to be so highly favoured.
It is obvious that whoever invented the scheme of the letter did so with a
view to the escape of the conspirators. Salisbury was accused by his con-
temporaries of inventing the whole plot, with a view to gain .favour by his
supposed cleverness in detecting it. Absurd as this charge was, it is
hardly more absurd than a theory which makes him to be the inventor of a
scheme which was admirably adapted to enable the conspirators to escape,
and by which he did not even succeed in discovering their names.
On the other hand, the suspicious circumstances are capable of an ex-
planation. The information of the names must have reached the Govern-
ment on the 7th, or late on the 6th. Perhaps Monteagle gave them up
when the whole plot had broken down. Perhaps they were learned from
some other source.
At first, the Government would be unwilling to arrest Tresham, as being
Monteagle’s brother-in-law. He had not taken flight, and they knew that
they could have him when they wanted him. When the news came that so
many of the plotters had been killed, Tresham’s evidence became important,
and he was accordingly sent for on the 12th. When he was dead, the
Government may have thought it better to allow him to be attainted with
the others. They must have suspected that Monteagle knew more of the
plot than he had avowed, and they may have thought that to except his
brother-in-law from the attainder would expose him to suspicion.
There is in Md. MSS. 19,402, fob 143, a curious letter of Monteagle’s,
written «to assure the King of his desire to become a Protestant. It is
undated, but it would hardly have been without reference to the plot, if it
had been written subsequently to 1605.
i6o 5 TJ?£S//A3rS PROCEEDINGS.
by bis report. Meanwhile, their suspicions naturally turned
upon Tresham as the traitor. They expected him to pass
through Barnet at two in the afternoon of the 29th, and it had
been arranged that 'Winter should meet him there. Tiesham,
however, shrank from seeing any of his fellow-conspirators, and
caught eagerly at any plan which would save him from their
jjresence even for four-and-twenty hours. He accordingly sent
to Winter to inform him that he had postponed his journey, and
^ that he should not pass through Barnet till the 30th.
He said nothing of the hour at which he was to pass,
and pushing on got through at eight in the morning, long before
he was expected. He had not secured immunity for any long
^ time ; the next day the unhappy man was doometl
to see the detested face of Winter at his lodgings
in London. He had come to request his presence at Barnet
on the following day. Tresham did not dare to refuse. At
^ the appointed time he went to Barnet, where he
found Catesby and Winter waiting for him. They at
once charged him with having written the letter. They in-
tended, as it was said, to poniard him at once if he gave roorn
for the slightest suspicion.^ He showed, however, so bold a
face, and swore so positively that he knew nothing of the matter,
* Declaration of Tresham, Nov. 13, S. P. Dom. xvi. 33. Confession
of T. Winter, Nov. 23, G. P. B. Jardine, Narrative, p. 96, from Green
way’s MS.
A Calendar of the proceedings of these days may be useful : —
Sat. Oct. 26 Monteagle receives the letter.
Sun. „ 27 Ward informs Winter.
Mon. ,, 28 Winter informs Catesby.
Tu. „ 29
Wed. ,, 30 Tresham returns. Fawkes examines the cellar.
Th. ,, 31 Winter summons Tresham.
Fri. Nov. I Meeting of Tresham with Catesby and Winter.
Sat. 5, 2 Winter meets Tresham at Lincoln's Inn.
Sun. ,, 3 Meeting behind St. Clement’s.
Mon. ,, 4 Percy goes to Sion, Fawkes taken.
Tu. ,, 5 Flight of the conspirators.
Wed. ,, 6 Arrival at Huddington at 2 p.ni.
Th. ,5 7 Arrival at Holbeche at 10 p.m.
Fri. ,, 8 Capture at Holbeche.
GUNPOWDER PLOT.
CH. VK
356
that they let him go. He again pressed them to let the matter
diopj at least for the present, and to take refuge in Flanders.
The con found that his entreaties were all in vain. In
spirators fact, Fawkes had been sent tip to London to examine
Sv'Hp their the cellar, and upon his report that he had found
everything in the state in which he had left it, they
came to the conclusion that the Government had attached no
weight to Monteagle’s representations, and that the conspirators
would incur no real danger by persisting in their original plan.
On the next day, Winter was again despatched to Tresham
for money, and was quieted with 100/. Tresham again pressed
^ him to fly, and assured him that Salisbury was ac-
quainted with all their secrets, and that he had laid
everything before the King. Upon hearing this, Winter carried
the news to Catesby, who was at last shaken by this new intel-
ligence, and made up his mind to fly. Before taking this last
step, however, he would confer with Percy, who was expected
to arrive shortly from the North, where he had been engaged
in collecting the Earl of Northumberland’s rents.
Accordingly, on the evening, of November 3, a meeting was
held at the same house behind St. Clement’s in which the
original conspirators had taken their oath of secrecy
SSdIt eighteen months before. Those five men now met
Clement’s, again in the same place. Christopher Wright was
the only other person present. Upon hearing all that had
passed, Percy insisted upon their continuing steadfast The
conspirators could not tear away from their breasts a hope which
had, by long cherishing, become a part of themselves, and they
allowed themselves to be persuaded by his earnest entreaties.
Fawkes, with a rare self-devotion, which, even in such a cause
as this, commands our admiration, went down to the cellar and
occupied his post as usual. Kokewood and Keyes were also in
London, but it does not appear whether they were told that the
plot had been discovered
Nov. 4. Monday afternoon Fawkes was still at his post.
Fawkes Suffolk and Monteagle had left him, he may
his post. possibly have thought that the danger was over.
About ten o’clock he received a visit from Keyes, who brought
i6o5 flight of THE PLOTTERS. 257
a watch which Percy had bought for him, in order that he
might know how the hours were passing during that anxious
night. ^ Within an hour after the time when Keyes left him,
he was a hopeless prisoner, and all his schemes were blown for
ever to the winds.
Early on Tuesday morning the chief conspirators were flying
at full gallop along the road to Lady Catesby’s house at Ashby
St. Legers. Utterly disheartened by the conscious-
the ness of failure, they yet instinctively followed out the
plan which they had determined upon whilst success
seemed still within their grasp. Catesby and John Wright were
the first to get away. At five on the morning of the 5th, Chris-
topher Wright burst into Winter’s lodgings with the tidings that
all was at an end. He then went out to reconnoitre, and re-
turned with the assurance that the news was only too true. He
again went out to find Percy, whose name was now known to
the Government as that of the tenant of the cellar. These two
galloped off together. Some hours later they were followed by
Keyes and Rokewood, the latter of whom did not leave London
before ten oclock.®
Thomas Winter was the last to fly He determined to see
for himself how matters stood He coolly made his way to the
gates of the palace, which he found strictly guarded. He then
attempted to reach the Parliament House, but was stopped by
the guard in the middle of King Street As he returned, he
heard men in the crowd talking of the treason which had been
discovered. Finding that all was known, he took horse and
followed his companions in their flight He seems to have
been the only one of them who did not hurry himself; for
g though he could not have left London at a much
later hour than Rokewood, he did not overtake the
rest of the party till Wednesday evening, when he found them
at Huddington.
About three miles beyond Highgate, Keyes was overtaken
by Rokewood. Further on he contrived to slip away from
1 Declaration of Fawkes, Nov. 16, 1605, G. P. B.
* Rokewood’s Examination, Dec. 2, 1605, G. P, B. Examination of
R. Rooks and Elizabeth More, Nov. JL 160;, .S’, F. Dent, xvi. ii, i;}.
TOL. I.
25 S GUNPOWDER PLOT. CH. vi.
him, and to conceal himself till he was captured, a few days
later. The speed at which Rokewood was riding
enabled him to come up with Percy and Christopher
Wright, about forty miles down the road. A little beyond
Brickhill they overtook John Wright and Catesby. In hot
haste all five pressed on, as men press on who are flying for
their lives. So excited were they, that Percy and John Wright
tore off their cloaks and threw them into the hedge, in order
that they might ride the faster.
Whilst these men were thus riding their desperate race,
Digby was calmly carrying out his instructions, in complete
. . ignorance of the failure of his associates. He came
to the hunting at Dunchurch, accompanied by his
uncle, Sir Robert Digby, of Coleshill. Grant brought
with him three of his own brothers, a neighbour named Morgan,
and a third brother of the Winters. Late in the evening Robert
Winter rode in, followed by Robert Acton, a neighbour, whom
he had persuaded to join him, and by Stephen and Humphrey
Littleton, of Holbeche, in Staffordshire. These two had been
induced to come in the hope that one of them might obtain a
commission in the force which Catesby had been ostensibly
levying for the Archduke. All the gentlemen who arrived were
accompanied by their servants. The number of persons present
was about eighty.^ Winter left the Littletons at Dunchurch,
and rode on to Ashby with some others of his companions. He
expected that he would thus be the first to hear the good news
from Catesby, who was sure to bring the tidings to his mother’s
house.®
About six in the evening Catesby arrived at Ashby. He
called for Winter to come out to him, and there he poured out
* Examination of J. Fowes. Enclosed in a letter of the Sheriff and
Justices of Warwickshire to those of Worcestershire, Nov. 6, G. P. B,
2 Examination of Francis Grant. Enclosed in a letter of the Sheriff of
Warwickshire to Salisbury, Nov. 7, G. P. B. Examination of R. Higgins,
enclosed in a letter of the Justices of Warwickshire to Salisbury, Nov. 12,
G. P. B. Examination of R. Jackson, enclosed in a letter of the Sheriff
of Northamptonshire to Salisbury, Nov. 8, S. P, Dam, xvi. 28. R. Winter
to the Lords Commissioners, Jan. 21, 1606, G. P. B,
THE ATTEMPTED INSURRECTION
259
to him the whole wretched story of failure and despair. Winter
Catesby’s saw at oncc that all hope was at an end, and
Shby St 3-dvised instant surrender. Catesby, who had waded
Legers. fat deeper into treason than his adviser, refused to
hear of it, and decided upon riding off to Dunchurch, for the
purpose of consulting with his friends. Bates, who lived at a
little distance from the house, was sent to Rugby to act as
guide to some of Catesby's party, who had been left there.
On his arrival at Dunchurch, Catesby called Digby aside,
and told him ‘ that now w^as the time to stir for the Catholic
cause.’ He had, indeed, failed to blow up the Parliament
House, but both the King and Salisbury were dead, so that if
they w'ere only steadfast in asserting their claims, he ‘ doubted
not but they might procure themselves good conditions.’ He
assured him that the Littletons would be able to assist them
with a thousand men, and that Robert Winter’s father-in-law,
John Talbot of Grafton, would undoubtedly join them with a
large force as soon as he heard that they w'ere in arms.^
These falsehoods imposed upon the weak mind of Digby.
With most of the others they failed entirely. Sir Robert Digby
rode off indignantly, and tendered his services to the Govern
ment. Humphrey Littleton refused to follow them, and several
more, especially of the servants, took every opportunity which
offered itself of slipping away unobserved. The remainder de-
termined to make the best of their way to Huddington, in hopes
of raising the Catholics of the neighbourhood. They would
then pass on into Wales, where they expected to be joined by
large numbers of insurgents.^
As they rode along they remembered that at Warwick there
was a stable, in which they would be able to find fresh horses,
Seizure of Carry off in exchange for the tired
horses at oncs on which some of the company were mounted.
Warwick. ^
Robert Winter, who, as he had never joined in the
actual operations, had not sufficiently realised his position as a
conspirator, remonstrated against this breach of the law. “ Some
of us,” was Catesby’s answer, may not look back.” “ But,”
* Examination of Sir E. Digby, Nov. 19, 1605, S. P. Dom. xvi. 94.
Examination of Garnet, March 12, 1606, S, P, Dom. xix. 40.
26 o
CVNPOWDBk PLOP
a. VI.
said Winter, “ others, I hope, may, and therefore, I pray you,
let this alone.” “ What I hast thou any hope, Robin ? ” was
the reply ; “ I assure thee there is none that knoweth of this
action but shall perish.” Rokewood, too, felt indisposed to
join in horse-stealing, especially as he was himself well-mounted,
and rode on before them towards Grant’s house at Norbrook,
At three in the morning the rest of the party rejoined him there
upon their fresh horses, but they only remained long enough
to take away about fifty muskets and a fresh supply of powder
and ball. They then rode on, tired as they were, to Hudding-
ton, where they arrived, weary and desponding, at two o’clock
g in the afternoon of the 6th ; ^ having despatched
Bates, as they left Norbrook, to Coughton, with a
letter for Father Garnet, in which their condition was described,
and his advice was asked.
Bates found Garnet at Coughton, and gave him the letter.
While he was reading it, Father Greenway came in, and, upon
hearing the news, ojffered to accompany Bates to Huddington.
Upon their arrival, Catesby, catching sight of the priest’s face,
exclaimed, that * ** here at least was a gentleman who would live
and die with them.’* After a conference with Catesby and
Unsuccessful Fercy, Greenway rode away to Hindlip, a house about
to gam Huddington, belonging to a Catholic
Abmgton gentleman of the name of Abington, who had often
offered a refuge to priests flying from persecution. It was in
vain that he tried to gain him to the cause.^ Abington would
willingly have sheltered him if he had been seeking a refuge for
himself, but he immediately refused to take any part in treason.
The main hope of the conspirators was now to obtain
and Talbot assistance of John Talbot, whose daughter w^as
of Grafton, married to Robert Winter. He W'as one of the
wealthiest of the Catholic laity, and was a man of considerable
* Examination of Gertrude Winter, Nov. 7, G. P. B.
2 Examination of Bates, Jan, 13, 1606, G, P. B. Declaration of H.
Morgan, Jan. lo, G. P, B.
^ Examination of Oldcorne, March 6, G, P. B,
** He was one of those who paid the 20/. fine, as was Throckmorton,
the owner of Coughton.
FAILURE AND FLIGHT
261
1605
influence, as the representative of the younger branch of the
family of the Earl of Shrewsbury.^ Soon after their arrival at
Huddington, Catesby and John Wright pressed Winter to
write to his father-in-law. Winter, who knew him well,
positively refused, telling them ‘ that they did not know him,
for the world would not draw him from his allegiance.’^ Even
if his loyalty had not been steadfast, so wealthy a man was the
last person likely to take part in a hopeless insurrection.
In the evening the fugitives were joined by Thomas Winter,
On the following morning the whole company, now reduced by
desertion to about thirty-six persons, were present
gi^htto at mass.^ After its conclusion, they all confessed
to the priest, who was a Father Hammond. He
was aware of their late proceedings, but does not seem to have
considered that there was anything in them which needed
absolution. At least Bates naively stated that when he con-
fessed on this occasion it was only for his sins, and not for any
other particular cause.
After they had thus cleared their consciences, they rode off
to Stephen Littleton’s house, at Holbeche, in Staffordshire,
The fugi- taking with them ten of Winter’s servants. As they
Passed by Hewell Grange, the house of Lord
Grange. Windsor,'^ they broke into it by force, and took all
the armour which they could And, supplying those of the
company who needed it, and putting that for which they had
no immediate use into a cart, which followed them.
It was all to no purpose. Not a soul was willing to share
their fate. Whilst they were at Lord Windsor’s a number of
countrymen came to them and asked them what they meant to
do. Catesby, in return, asked them to go with him. This was
no answer, and they again asked what he intended to do. He
^ His son succeeded to the earldom on the extinction of the elder branch
m 1617.
2 R. Winter to the Lords Commissioners, Jan. 21, 1606, G. P. B.
“ Examination of J. Flower and Stephen Kirk, enclosed by Sir E.
Leigh to the Council, Nov. 9, G. P. B. Examination of Bates, Dec. 4,
G. P. B.
* Examination of W. Ellis, Nov. 2 ii G. P. B, . ,
262
GUNPOWDER PLOP
CH. VI.
saw that nothing could be done with them, and contented
himself with saying that he was for ‘ God and the country.’
* And we,’ said his questioner, * are for God and the King, and
the country,’ and turned his back upon him.
About ten o’clock at night they arrived at Holbeche, which
was situated just over the borders of Staffordshire, about two
They arrive from Stourbridge. Many of their followers
at Holbeche. gj[| precautions, dropped away
from their ranks. The Sheriff of Worcestershire was -following
them, with all the forces of the county ; and the Sheriff of
Staffordshire might soon be expected to bar their further
progress. Flight had now become impossible, and hope of
gathering fresh strength there was none. Early on the follow-
^ ing morning they were deserted by Sir Everard
Dlgby. Desperate as their case was, they determined
to make one more effort to get help from Talbot. Accordingly,
Thomas Winter and Stephen Littleton were despatched to
Grafton,* They found the old man at home, who at once
drove them out of his presence. On their return, they were
met by one of Winter’s servants, who told them that a terrible
The accident accident had occurred, and that some of their
at Holbeche. number had been killed.^ Upon this Littleton
lost heart and rode away, inviting Winter to accompany him.
Winter, like a brave man as he was, answered that he w’ould
first find Catesby’s body and bury it before he thought of
himself. On entering the house, he found that his friends
w^ere more frightened than hurt. The gunpowder which they
had brought with them had been wetted in crossing the Stour,
and they ’ivere engaged in drying some of it when a hot coal
fell into it. Catesby and Kokew’-ood were slightly injured by
the explosion. Grant suffered more severely, his face and
hands being much burnt. Their terror w^as extreme ; they fan-
cied they saw in the accident the finger of God’s Providence,
bringing vengeance upon them by the same means as that by
‘ Examination of J. Talbot, Dec. 4, G. P. B. Examination of T.
Winter, Dec. 5, G. F. B.
2 Confession of T. Winter, Nov. 23, G, P. B. Examination of Bates,
Pec. 4, G. P. B. Greenway’s MS. in Tierney’s Dodd. iv. 53.
THE ATTACH ON HOLBECHE,
263
1605
which they had planned to take away the lives of so many of
their fellow-creatures. John Wright, who was himself unhurt,
stepped up to Catesby and cried out, ‘‘Woe worth the time that
we have seen this day I ” and called for the rest of the powder,
that they might blow themselves all up. Robert Winter left
the house and fled j he was immediately followed by Bates.
As soon as Thomas Winter entered the house, he asked
what they meant to do. They all answered with one voice,
that they meant to die there. Winter assured them that he
would share their fate. The remainder of the time which was
left to them they spent in prayer before a picture of the Virgin,
acknowledging now, at last, that they had been guilty of a
great sin.
About eleven the Sheriff arrived. His men began firing
into the house. Winter, who went out into the court to meet
Nov. 8. them, was wounded by a shot in the shoulder. John
Arri^iof Wright was the first who was shot dead, and im-
the Sheriff. f. , . , , . . , r n 1 7 • .1
Death of the mediately afterwards, his brother fell by his side,
two Wrights, Rokewood dropped, wounded in four or five x>laces.
Upon this, Catesby begged Winter to stand by him, that they
might die together. “Sir,” was the answer, “ I have lost the
use of my right arm, and I fear that will cause me to be taken.”
As they stood near each other, Catesby and Percy
Catesby and fell, the Same bullet passing through the bodies of
Percy. Catesby was able to crawl on his knees to
the picture of the Virgin, which he took in his arms, and died
kissing and embracing it Percy lived for two or three days
longer. The assailants rushed in, and found the two wounded
The rest Winter and Rokewood. They carried them
ire taken. Qff g^g prisoners, with Grant and Morgan and the
few servants who had remained faithful to their masters.^ The
other conspirators were picked up here and there in their
various hiding-places, most of them in the course of the next
few days.
It is impossible not to feel some satisfaction that so many
of the original conspirators escaped the scaffold. Atrocious as
the whole undertaking was, great as must have been the moral
^ T, Lawley to Salisbuiy, Nov. 14, MSS. 5495.
264 GUNPOWDER PLOT. CH.vu
obliquity of their minds before they could have conceived
such a project, there was at least nothing mean
’ or selfish about them. They had boldly risked their
lives for what they honestly believed to be the cause of
God and of their country. Theirs was a crime which it would
never have entered into the heart of any man to commit who
was not raised above the low aims of the ordinary criminal.
Yet, for all that, it was a crime born of ignorance. Catesby
and his associates saw the hard treatment to which the
Catholics were subjected. They saw in James and his Pro-
testant Parliament the oppressors of their Church. They did
not see the causes which made this oppression possible, causes
which no destruction of human life could reach, and which
were only too certain to be intensified by the wanton destruc-
tion which they had resolved to spread around.
If the criminality of their design was hidden from the eyes
of the plotters, it was not from any ambitious thoughts of the
consequences of success to themselves. When Watson and his
associates formed their plans, visions floated before their eyes
in which they saw themselves installed in the highest offices of
the State. In the expressions of these conspirators not a single
word can be traced from which it can be inferred that they
cherished any such thoughts. As far as we can judge, they would
have been ready, as soon as the wrongs of which they com-
plained had been redressed, to sink back again into obscurity.
One thing was wanting, that they should see their atrocrious
design in the light in which we see it. Even this was vouch-
safed to some of them. In their time of trouble wisdom came
to them. When they saw themselves alone in the world, when
even their Catholic brethren spumed them from their houses,
their thoughts turned to reconsider their actions, and to doubt
whether they had been really, as they had imagined, fighting
in the cause of God. In such a frame of mind, the accident
with the gunpowder at Holbeche turned the scale, and placed
before them their acts as they really were. With such thoughts
on their minds, they passed away from the world which they
had wronged to the presence of Him who had seen their guilt
and their repentance alike.
265
CHAPTER VII.
THE OATH OF ALLEGIANCE.
On the morning of November 5, the news of the great de-
liverance ran like wildfire along the streets of London. The
suspicions of the people were naturally directed
against the Spaniards who happened to be in the
City, and especially against the Spanish Ambassador. If
measures had not been promptly taken, it might have gone ill
with the object of the popular dislike.^ In the evening all the
bells were ringing, and the sk as reddened with the bonfires
which were blazing in every s
On the following morning h'awkes was carried to the Tower,
The King, hearing that he refused to implicate any of his ac-
g complices, sent a string of questions to which he was
Examination required to answer, and ordered that, if he refused,
‘ ^ he should be put to the torture, ^ though recoume was
not to be had to the rack unless he continued obstinate. These
questions were put to him on the same afternoon, but nothing
was obtained from him beyond a fictitious account of his own
origin and life. He still insisted that his name was Johnson.
At first the Government had only received sufficient infor-
* Waad to Salisbury, Nov. 5, C. P. B.
® Chamberlaia to Carleton, Nov. 7, S. P. Doth. xvi. 23.
® Torture, though unknown to the common law, had, for upwards of a
century, been frequently used to extract evidence. The infliction of it was
considered to be part of the Royal prerogative, which enabled the King
to override the common law. It could, therefore, he employed only by
express command of the King, or*of the Council acting in his name, (See
Jardine On the Use oj Torture in the Criminal Imzv of England.)
266
THE OATH OF ALLEGIANCE.
CH. VH.
mation to enable them to issue a proclamation for the arrest of
Percy. On the ylh they obtained, from some un-
known source, intelligence which put them in posses-
sion of the names of the other conspirators. A proclamation
was set forth, in which the names of all of them were mentioned,
excepting Tresham, who was still in London, and on whom the
Government could lay their hands whenever they pleased. On
the same day Fawkes was again examined, probably after one
of those gentler tqrtures which James had recommended. He
gave some further particulars of the plot, and acknowledged that
his name was Fawkes.^
On the 8th, the day of the final catastrophe at Holbeche,
much additional information was obtained from him. The
next day he was undoubtedly subjected to torture of no
° common severity. The signature which he afi&xed to
his examination is written in a trembling broken hand, as by a
man who had lost all command over his limbs. The motive for
the employment of torture was the hope that it might be possible
to trace the connection which was suspected to exist between
the conspirators and the priests. Fawkes admitted that the
design had been communicated to Owen, who, as he knew, was
safe in Flanders, beyond the power of the English Government.
He apknowledged that the conspirators had, after taking the
oath of secrecy, received the sacrament from the hands of
Gerard ; but he expressly added that Gerard knew nothing of
their intentions. With respect to Garnet, he only stated that
they had used his house in Enfield Chase as a rendezvous.®
Nov. to. On Sunday a solemn thanksgiving was offered
Th^Bgop in all the churches. The news of the occurrences
ter's sermon, at Holbeclie, which had been received that very
Nov. 12. morning, was given to the public by the Bishop of
* The King’s words were, ‘The gentler tortures are to be first used unto
him, ef sic per grains ad ima ienditnr, and so God speed your good work.’
The King to the Lords Commissioners, Nov. 6, G. P. B. Sir E. Hoby
wrote to Sir T. Edmondes, ‘ Since Johnson’s being in the Tower, he be-
ginneth to speak English, and yet he was never upon the rack, but only
by the arms upright ’ [Court and Times of James /. i. 53). The letter Is
dated Nov- 9, but was evidently written piecemeal. This part was ap-
parently written on the evening of the 7th, or the morning of the 8th,
® Examination of Fawkes, Nov. 9, G. P. B.
i6o5
TRESHAM^S DEATH.
267
Rochester. On the 12th Thomas Winter arrived, and hj de-
grees the particulars, which were still unknown, were wormed
out of him and those of his fellow-conspirators who survived.
Tresham’s Among thosc who were thus examined was Tres-
mentSS
death. possible that he was spared out of regard for Mont-
eagle, until, by the death of so many witnesses, his testimony
was rendered indispensable. If Salisbury still had any wish
to treat him favourably, this wish was not shared by others at
the Court. There were many who were already eager for the
division of the spoil. Within a day or two of his committal.
Sir Thomas Lake had obtained from the King a promise of one
of his manors in the event of his conviction.^
The great object of the Government now was to obtain evi-
dence against the priests. Of their connection with the great
conspiracy it soon became evident that Tresham knew nothing.
But he might be able to tell something of the share which they
had taken in the mission to Spain in 1602. He was examined
on this point, and after flatly denying that he knew anything
of the matter at all, was finally brought to confess, not only his
own share in the transaction, but that both Garnet and Greenway
had been made aware of what was being done.^
During these days he was seized by the disease under which
he gradually sank. He had no reason to complain of his treat-
ment During his illness his wife was allowed to remain with
him, and his servant Vavasour was also permitted to have
access to him at all times.^
On December 5, Coke, in searching Tresham’s chamber
at the Temple, came upon a manuscript bearing the
title of ‘A Treatise on Equivocation,’^ in which
the Jesuit doctrine concerning the lawfulness of giving false
evidence under certain circumstances was advocated. Tresham,
* The King to Dorset, Nov, 18. S. P. Dom. xvi. 86.
2 Examination of Tresham, Nov. 29, G. P. B.
® Would tlois have been allowed if he had been, as Mr. Jardine sup-
poses, the depositary of an important State secret ?
^ This copy, made by Vavasour, is in the Bodleian Library, and has
been published by Mr. Jardine.
268
THE OATH Oh ALLEGIANCE
CH. vn.
who had already given proof how apt a scholar he had become
in that evil school in which he had been brought up, was soon
to give another proof of how completely he had mastered the
principles of this book. On the 9th he was questioned
about the book, and made a statement professing an
ignorance of all circumstances connected with it, which he
could hardly have expected to be believed. As the days passed
on, and he felt more and more that he was a dying man, he
was haunted by remorse for his acknowledgment that Garnet
had been acquainted with the mission to Spain. He deter-
mined to crown his life with a deliberate falsehood. One or
two days before his death he dictated to Vavasour a declaration
in which he not only affirmed that Garnet had taken no part
in the negotiations, but, as if in mere recklessness of lying, he
added that he had neither seen him nor heard from him for
sixteen years.^ He died on the 22nd, leaving it as
^ his last charge to his wife to forward this declaration
to Salisbury. She did so and the ridiculous untruth of the
statement thus volunteered must have weighed much against
any reasons for treating his memory with leniency. Hence-
forward his name appears on the same footing as that of the
other conspirators. His body, according to the barbarous prac-
tice of those times, was beheaded, and his head was exposed to
the public gaze at Northampton.*
On January 27 the surviving conspirators, Fawkes, the two
Winters, ICeyes, Bates, Rokewood, Grant, and Digby, were
1606. brought up for trial in Westminster Hall, in the
TriS^ofthe immense concourse of spectators.^
plotters. Digby 'alone pleaded Guilty. The others pleaded
Not Guilty, not with any hope of obtaining an acquittal, but in
order to have an opportunity of contradicting some statements
of minor importance contained in the indictment. The main
facts were too plain to be denied, and Coke had no difficulty
in obtaining a verdict against the prisoners. Digby having
stated that promises had been broken with the Catholics,
' ’ Coke to Salisbury, March 24, 1606, G, P. B,
2 Phelippes to Owen, Dec. 1605, S. P, Lorn, xvii. 62.
• Stoic Trials i ii. 193.
l6o6
THE CONSPIRATORS EXECUTED.
259
Northampton rose and denied that the King had ever made
them any promise at all before he came to England — an asser-
tion which was certainly untrue. Salisbury drew a distinction
between promises of toleration, or permission to enjoy the free
exercise of their religion, and promises of exemption from fines,
a distinction which has often been lost sight of. When, how-
ever, he proceeded to say that, in answer to the deputation
which had -waited upon the Council in July 1603, nothing
more had been promised than that the arrears then accruing
should be remitted, he said what he must have known to be
untrue. The promise had been that, as long as the Catholics
remained loyal, no fines should be levied ; and this promise
had been broken.
On the 31st, Digby, Robert Winter, Grant, and Bates were
executed in St. PauFs Churchyard. On the following day
Jan sr Thoiuas Winter, Rokewood, and Keyes
Feb. 3.* suffered death at Westminster. As far as we know,
Execution these men, unlike those who perished at Holbeche,
died in the firm persuasion that they were suffering
sDirata martyrs in the cause of God. As they passed
along the streets, each of them, according to custom, dragged
upon his separate hurdle, even these iron men must have
longed for some sympathy as they looked up at the long line
of hostile faces. Nor was this altogether withheld from them :
as the miserable procession passed along the Strand, they came
to the house in which Rokewood's wife was lodging. She had
not shunned the spectacle, but had placed herself at an open
window. Her husband, catching sight of her, begged her to
pray for him. Without faltering, she answered : “I wfill ! I
will ! and do you offer yourself with a good heart to God and
your Creator. I yield you to Him with as full an assurance
that you will be accepted of Him as when He gave you to me.” ^
The whole story of the plot, as far as it relates to the lay
conspirators, rests upon indisputable evidence. But
Rgainltriie as soou US we approach the question of the complicity
priests. priests, we find ourselves upon more uncertain
ground. Of those who were implicated by the evidence of the
1 Greenway’s MS. quoted by Mr. Jardine, Narrative, p. 154,
270 THE OATH OF ALLEGIANCE. ch. vn.
plotters, Owen the Jesuit and Baldwin were beyond the reach of
the Government, under the protection of the Archduke. Of the
three who had been in England, Gerard and Greenway had
contrived to make their escape, and Garnet alone was brought
to trial. Catesby, who knew better than any man what Garnet’s
connection with the plot really was, was dead. So that the
whole case against Garnet rested upon circumstantial evidence.
It was not till December 4 that any one of the priests ^
was actually implicated in the plot by any of the conspirators.^
Bates, on that day, acknowledged that he had
Dec. 4, 1605. whole plot to Greenway in confession.
On January 13 he gave a further clue by narrating the history
of his visit to Coughton after the discovery of the plot® Upon
this a proclamation was issued for the arrest of Gerard, Green-
way, and Garnet. The first two succeeded in escaping. Garnet
was less fortunate. He had remained at Coughton till Decem-
Movements 4, bul had then moved to Hindlip, in consequence
of Garnet, invitation of a priest named Oldcorne, who
had himself received shelter in Abington’s house, and acted as
his chaplain. The house was amply provided with means for
secreting fugitives. There was scarcely a room which did not
contain some secret mode of egress to a hiding-place con-
structed in the thickness of the walls. Even the chimneys led
to rooms, the doors of which were covered with a lining of
bricks, which, blackened as it was wuth smoke, was usually
sufficient to prevent detection.^
On January 20 Sir Henry Bromley, a magistrate of the
county, proceeded, in consequence of directions
Tfe search froui Salisbury, to search the house.® Several of the
at Hindiip. hidjng-pkces were discovered, but nothing was found
^ That Salisbury was not anxious to take any steps against the priests,
unless upon clear evidence, appears from the fac-t that, though Lady Mark-
ham on Jan. 3 offered to act as a spy from Gerard, he took no notice of
her offer till the 15th. — S. JP. Dorn', xviii. 4, 19.
® Examination of Bates, Dec. 4, 1605, G. P. B.
® Examination of Bates, Jan. 13, i6o6, G. P, B. (seep. 260).
* There is a description and an engraving of the house in Nash’s Wor^
cesiersMre, i. 584. Compare Jardine, p. 182.
* Harl MSS. 360, fol. 92. Bromley to Salisbury, Jan. 23, printed in
Jardine, p 1S5.
i6o6
SEIZURE OF GARNET.
-n
in them excepting what Bromley described as a number oi
Popish trash.’ He was not satisfied with these results, and
determined to keep watch, in hopes of making further dis-
coveries. On the fourth day of his watch, he heard that two
men had crept out from behind the w’ainscot in one of the
rooms. They proved to be Garnet’s servant, Owen, and Cham-
bers, who acted in the same capacity to Oidcorne. They declared
that they could hold out no longer, as they had had no more
than a single apple to eat during the time of their concealment.
Two or three days after this, Bromley, who did not relax in
his watchfulness, was encouraged by hearing that Humphrey
, , Littleton had bought his life by confessing his know-
Gametand , 7,.,.
Oidcorne ledge that Oldcome was at that moment m hiding at
surrender. 1 ^oth his paticncc was rewarded.^
To the astonishment of the man who was set to keep w’atch,
the two priests, who could bear the confinement no longer,
suddenly stepped out from their hiding-place. The sentinel
immediately ran away, expecting to be shot. The priests had
been in no danger of starvation. There w^as a communication
between their place of concealment and one of the rooms of
the house by means of a quill, through which they had received
constant supplies of broth. They had suffered principally from
want of air. The closet in which they were had not been pre-
pared for their reception, and it was half filled with books and
furniture. Garnet afterwards stated his belief that, if these had
been removed, he could have held out easily for three months.
‘‘As it was,” he said, “ we were well wearied, for we continually
sat, save that sometimes we could half stretch ourselves, the place
being not high enough ; and we had our legs so straitened that
we could not, sitting, find place for them, so that we both were
in continual pain of our legs ; and both our legs, especially mine,
were much swollen. . . . When we came forth we appeared like
two ghosts, yeti the stronger, though my weakness lasted longer.”
The two priests were sent up to London. They were
’ H. Littleton’s relation, Add. MSS. 6178, fol. 693.
^ Bromley to Salisbury, Jan, 30, S. R. Dorn, xviii. 52. Garnet to
Mrs. Vaux, printed in Jardine, App. i. He speaks of having been in the
hole seven days and seven nights. If this is correct, he must have been
ismoved t| a safer place on the 23rd.
THE OATH OF ALLEGIANCE.
CH. VII.
272
allowed to travel by easy stages ; and by Salisbury’s express
orders they were well treated during the whole journey. Owen
and Chambers, as well as Abington and two of his semnts,
were sent with them.
On February 13, Garnet was examined by the Council.
As he was conducted to Whitehall, the streets were crowded
^ with multitudes, who were eager to catch a sight of
Garnet ’ the head of the Jesuits in England. He heard one
'‘xamtxed ^ provincial,’ whilst another
Council. shouted out, “ There goes a young Pope.” It was
found impossible to extract from him any confession of his
complicity in the plot During the following days, he was re-
peatedly examined with equal want of success. At one time
he was threatened with torture. It was all alike. Nothing
could be gained from him, either by fear or by persuasion. It
was a mere threat, as the King had strictly forbidden the use
of torture in his case.
Torture was, however, used upon Owen, who exasperated
the Commissioners appointed to conduct the examinations by
declaring that he did not know either Oldcorne ' or
toSeand his own master. An acknowledgment of his ac-
siucJe. quaintance with Garnet was extracted from him ^ by
fastening his thumbs to a beam above his head. His fear lest
the torture should be repeated worked upon his mind to such
an extent, that on the following day he committed suicide.®
The Government having in vain tried all ordinary means
of shaking Garnet’s constancy, determined to resort
^btaS“ to stratagem. He and Oldcorne were removed to
two rooms adjoining one another, between which a
communication existed by means of a door. Two
persons were placed in a concealed position, from which they
* This was hi? veal name. Like the other priests, he had many aliases,
and at this time he was generally known as Hall.
3 Examination of Owen, Feb. 26 and March i, 1606, G, F. B.
» Antilogia, p. 1 14. The Catholics accused the Government of tortur-
ing him to death. “ There is, perhaps, no great diiference,” observes Mr.
Jardine, “between the guilt of homicide by actual torture, and that d
urging to suicide by the insupportable threat of its renewal ” (p. 200),
i6o6
GARNBTS NARRATIVE.
m
might be able to overhear all that passed.^ By these means
the Government was put in possession of information which
enabled it to frame its questions so as to obtain more satis-
factory answers.
Garnet at first denied that he had ever conversed with Old-
come through the door at all. At last, after he had been sub-
March much questioning, he discovered both that
Gamet;s * he could not hope to escape, and that there was no
confession. England who would be endangered by a
full confession. Accordingly, on March 8, he told the whole
story of his own connection with the plotters, and this story, as
far at least as the facts of the case are concerned, may pro-
bably, when taken together with subsequent additions, be re-
garded as substantially true. He now admitted that he had
been for some length of time in communication with the prin-
cipal conspirators. He said that soon after James’s accession
Catesby told him that, ‘ there would be some stirring, seeing
the King kept not promise ; that, about Midsummer 1604,
he came to him again, and ‘insinuated that he had some-
thing in hand,’ but told him no particulars ; and that, soon after-
w'ards, Greenway informed him that there was some scheme on
foot, upon v/hich he expressed his disapproval both to Cates-
by and to Greenway. About Easter, 1605, when Fawkes went
to Flanders, he gave him a letter of introduction to Baldwin ;
and on June 8, in the same year,® Catesby asked him a
question which was intended to draw out his opinion on the
1 The reports of the overheard conversations are printed in Jardine,
App. ii. He remarks on them (p. 203) : ^‘It is impossible to peruse the
notes of these conferences without being struck with the remarkable fact
that, although speaking the whole secrets of his heart unreservedly to his
friend, Garnet does not utter a word in denial of his knowledge of the plot,
and his acquiescence in it ; nor a word from which it can be implied that
in his conscience he knew that he was untruly accused in this respect. On
the contrary, the whole scope and object of his convei*sation is the arrange-
ment of the means by which he may baffle examination and elude detection
—his only care being to ‘contrive safe answers,’ and— to use his own
language — ‘ to wind himself out of this matter.’ ”
Declaration of Garnet, March 13, S. P. Dom. xix. 41,
* Examination of Garnet, March 12, S. 2 \ Dorn. xix. 40. He says
VOL. I. T
274 the oath of allegiance. ch. VII
lawfulness of the action in which he was engaged, without
letting him know what that action was. The question was,
whether it was lawful to enter upon any undertaking for the
good of the Catholic cause if it should be impossible to avoid
the destruction of some innocent persons together with the
guilty ; to which Garnet, understanding it to refer to military
-operations in Flanders against some fortified tovm in which
innocent persons would share the fortunes of the garrison,
answered in the affirmative. After Catesby was gone, Garnet
began to doubt whether Catesby ’s question were as abstract as
it appeared at first. He took an early opportunity of warning
Catesby that to make the opinion which he had given about the
innocents worth anything, it was absolutely necessary that the
cause in which they were to be sacrificed should be in itself
lawful. Catesby broke off the conversation, and turned away to
join Monteagle and Tresham, who were in the room at the time.
Garnet gathered from his manner that some plan of insurrection
was in hand.^
Garnet took alarm. He was under orders from Rome
to discountenance any commotion amongst the C'ntholics;
and those orders were repeated in the most stringent form
shortly after this meeting, in a letter frem Aquaviva, the General
of the Society.
When Garnet next saw Catesby, he showed him the Pope’s
letter. “ Whatever I mean to do,” said Catesby, “ if the Pope
knew, he would not hinder for the general good of our country.”
Garnet replied that those who did not keep quiet w^ould fly in
the teeth of the direct prohibition of the Pope. “ I am not
bound,” replied Catesby, “ to take knowledge by you of the
Pope’s will.” Would he not, pleaded Garnet, acquaint the
that this took place on the Saturday after the Octave of Corpus Christi.
In 1605 the Octave fell on June 6, and the Saturday after was June 8.
The 9th is the day mentioned in Garnet’s indictment j but the error of a
single day is not material.
^ So I interpret the words : “ * Oh, saith he, let me alone for that ; for
do you not see how I seek to enter into familiarity with this lord? '—which
made me imagine that something he intended amongst the nobility.”
Garnet’s Declaration, March 8, Haijield MSS. no, fob 30.
l6o6
GARNErS NARRA TIVE,
275
Pope with the project No, said Catesby, ‘ he would not for
all the world make his particular project known to him for fear
of discovery.’ Catesby, however, at last engaged to do nothing
till the Pope had been informed in general terras of the state
of matters in England, and it was then arranged that Sir Edward
Baynham, who was starting for Flanders, should convey the
information to the Nuncio at Brussels, if not to Rome itself.
To Catesby’s offer to acquaint him with the plot which he
had in his mind, Garnet returned a distinct refusal, on the
ground of the prohibition which had come from Rome.
That Garnet was fully aware that violence of some kind
was contemplated it is impossible to doubt. It is equally clear
that he had no objection on principle to such a movement
By his own account he argues against it on the ground of the
orders of the Pope, but he expresses no opinion on the wicked-
ness of righting wrongs with a strong hand, and he prefers to
know nothing of particulars, though to know particulars would
increase his facilities for arguing against the use of violence.
On the other hand, he may have thought, from the message sent
by Baynham, that the plot, whatever it was, was not to be executed
for some time to come.
This last conversation with Catesby took place early in July.
A few days later the Jesuit Greenway visited him and offered
to acquaint him with Catesby’s design. After some hesitation,
Garnet consented to hear the story, provided that it was told him
in confession. Upon this Greenway informed him of everything,
walking about the room as he spoke, and afterwards kneeling
down to place his statement under the formal safeguard of
confession.^
According to Garnet’s statement, he was thrown into the
greatest perplexity by this revelation. “ Every day,” he says,
“ I did offer up all my devotions and masses, that God of His
1 Garnet states that Greenway said : * Being not master of other men’s
secrets, he would not tell it me but by way of confession, for to have my
direction ; but because it was too tedious to relate so loi^ a discourse in
confession kneeling, if I would take it as a confession walking, and after
take his confession kneeling, then, or at any other time, he would teE
me.’ — Garnet’s Declaration, March 8, Hatfield MS, no, fol. 30.
ms: OAm OP ALLEGIANCE. CH. Vii.
m^rcy and infinite providence would dispose all for the best,
and find the best means which were pleasing unto Him to
prevent so great a mischief ; and if it were His holy will and
pleasure to ordain some sweeter means for the good of Catholics.”
He wrote, still in general terms to Rome, saying that he ‘ feared
some particular desperate courses,’ and he obtained merely such
an answer as such vague information was likely to receive.
Garnet’s horror and perplexity were natural enough, but they
were not of that overpowering nature which would have driven
him to sacrifice ease and life itself to make the villany impos-
sible. He still comforted himself with the reflection that
nothing might be done till Baynham’s return, and that Catesby
would fulfil a promise which he had made of visiting him in
the beginning of November, and would so give him the oppor-
tunity of remonstrating with him ; but he did not put his own
neck in danger by leaving his hiding-place to seek him out, in
order to plead against the crime with all the authority of his
calling. Nor does the language which he used to Greenway,
when the first discovery was made, testify to any very strong
initial horror. “Good Lordl” he said, “if this matter go
forward, the Pope will send me to the galleys j for he will
assuredly think I was privy to it”
Garnet no doubt had, as it were, an official conscience. He
might to a great extent succeed in bringing himself into that
frame of mind which his duty required him to be in. He may
even have shrunk with horror from the cruelties involved in the
execution of the plot. After all, however, he was a man whose
dearest friends were exposed to bitter persecution, and who was
himself liable at any moment to a cruel and ignominious death
by the sentence of a law which he thoroughly believed to be
the work of traitors to the divine government. In such a position
he might easily grow callous to the misery involved in the de-
struction of the enemies of the Church, and even when he
had awakened to some sense of the horrible nature of the crime,
would hardly throw himself with much energy into the work of
averting its execution.
Garnet’s trial took place at Guildhall ^ on March 28. The
* State Trials^ ii. 218. Hatl. MSS. 360. fol, 109,
i6o6
GARNETTS TRIAE
277
point which was selected as affording a proof of his complicity,
was the conversation with Catesby on June 9. No evidence
Garnet's which would have satisfied a modem jury was pro-
tria!. duced ; but it would be unfair to censure the Govern-
ment for disregarding the principles of evidence while as yet
those principles were unrecognised. In fact, the scene at Guild-
hall was a political rather than a judicial spectacle. Neither those
who were the principal actors, nor the multitude who thronged
every approach to the hall, regarded it as the sole or even as
the chief question, whether the old man who stood hopeless but
undaunted at the bar, and who, even by his own confession, had
been acquainted with the recent conspiracy, had looked upon
it with favour or with abhorrence. It was to them rather an
opportunity which had at last been gained, of striking a blow
against that impalpable system which seemed to meet them at
every turn, and which was the more terrible to the imagination
because it contained elements with which the sword and the
axe were found to be incapable of dealing. Any man who
should have hinted that it was inexpedient that men should be
put to death unless their guilt could be proved by the clearest
evidence, would have been looked upon as a dreamer. The
Pope was still too much dreaded to make it possible that fair
play should be granted to the supporters of his influence. He
was not yet what he became in the days of Bunyan, the old
man sitting in his cave, hopelessly nursing his impotent wrath.
His power was, to Burghley and Salisbury, a power which was
only a little less, and which might any day become greater, than
their own. They thought that if they could get the wolf by the
ears, it was the wisest policy, as well as the strictest justice, to
hold it fast.
In his speech for the prosecution,^ Coke attempted to show
that the conspiracies which had from time to time broken out
Coke's years had their root in the practices of the
speech. Jesuit Socicty. He asserted that all the plots which
had disturbed the repose of Elizabeth had originated with
the priests. He told the story of the breves which had been
^ State Trials^ ii. 229,
278
THE OATH OT ALLEGIANCE,
CH. vn
received by Garnet before the death of Elizabeth, in which all
Catholics were charged not to submit to any successor unless
he would not only give toleration, but also would ‘ with all his
might set forward the Catholic religion, and, according to the
custom of Catholic princes, submit himself to the See Apos-
tolical’ Garnet had kept these breves till after the death of
the Queen, and had only destroyed them when he found them
to be of no avail Coke then mentioned the two interviews in
which Catesby had thrown out vague hints of his intentions,
and then passed to the conversation of June 9, which was the
act of treason with which Garnet was charged in the indictment.
The question was whether, in declaring it to be lawful to destroy
some innocentpersons together with the guilty, Garnet had merely
given an answer to an abstract question, or whether he knew that
Catesby referred to a plot against the King. If the latter were
the case, he was both technically and morally guilty of treason.
Of this knowledge there was no legal proof whatever. Here,
therefore, in our days the case would at once have broken
Want of But there was strong corroborative evidence
proof of the derived from Garnet’s apparent approval of the plot
real nature , . , _ , . , Tv i i
of the con- at a Subsequent period, of which Coke was not slow
versation jjg showed that Garnet was ac-
Catesby. quaiuted by Greenway with the conspiracy at least
early as in July ; ^ and he then proceeded to allege facts ^
which certainly went to show that he had never evinced any
disapf i'Q ;al of the plot. When Baynham was sent by the
Iraitors into Flanders, it was Garnet w’ho furnished him with a
recommendation. In September, Garnet went down to Goat-
hrist, the house of Sir Everard Digby, from whence he pro-
ceeded on a pilgrimage to St. Winifred’s Well, together with a
large number of persons, most of wFom were in some way
co'tinected with the conspiracy. Was it possible that he would
have been allowed to accompany the party as a priest if he
^ ‘June,’ in SUtife Trials, ii. 229; but see Examination of Garnet,
March 12, S, P. Dom. six. 40.
' Coke merely states facts, without attempting any argument. The
arguments which are here given are extracted and abridged from Mr. Jar-
dine’s admirable chapter on the question of Garnet’s guilt.
r6o6
GARNETTS TRIAL.
had expressed his abhorrence, as he said that he had, of that
which was undoubtedly the subject of the prayers which many
of them offered on this occasion ? Even if this had been the
case, he would surely have left the party as soon as possible.
Instead of that, he remained at Goathurst, until the family
removed to Coughton, when he accompanied them to the very
place which had been selected as most appropriate for carrying
out the scheme of insurrection which was to follow upon the suc-
cess of the plot. When there, he requested his little congrega-
tion, on All Saints’ Day, to pray ^ for some good success for the
Catholic cause at the beginning of Parliament’ ^ It was not likely
that the jury would think that, knowing what he knew, he merely
asked that they should pray for the mitigation of the penal laws.
It is worthy of notice, that while the indictment charged
Garnet with an act of treason which it w^as impossible to prove,
The indict- it neglected to mention the conversation with Green-
which Coke referred in his speech, and
whh about which no doubt whatever existed. In taking
way. this course the members of Government were pro-
bably influenced by a not unnatural want of moral courage.
They knew that the jury vyould not be particular in inquiring
into the proof of the charge which they brought, and they
probably considered the indictment to be a merely formal act
On the other hand, they were aware that the knowledge which
Garnet derived from Greenway was obtained under the seal of
confession, and they were certain that they would be assailed
with the most envenomed acrimony by the whole Catholic
world, if they executed a priest whose crime was that he had
not revealed a secret entrusted to him in confession. They
shrank from taking their stand upon the moral principle that
^ lie aho sung the following verse of a hymn :
“ Gentem auferte perfidam
Credentium de finibus ;
Ut Christo laudes debitas
Persolvamus alacriter.”
Mr. Jardine states that the hymn from which this verse is taken was au-
thorised to be used on All Saints’ Day. There can, however, be no dcubt
that on this occasion it was sung with peculiar fervour.
THE OATH OF ALLEGIANCE.
CH, vn.
280
no religious duty, real or supposed, can excuse a man who
allows a crime to be committed which he might have prevented
and they preferred to be exposed to the charge of having brought
an accusation which they were unable to prove. ^
Garnet’s defence was, that he had never heard of the plot,
excepting in confession. To this he added the improbable
Garnet’s Statement, which was certainly not the whole of the
defence. tmth, that whcu Catesby offered to give him full in-
formation, he refused to hear him, because ‘his soul was so
troubled with the mislike of that particular, as he was loth to
hear any more of it’ ^ As a matter of course, the jury found a
verdict of Guilty.
The execution was deferred. Garnet was again examined
several times after his conviction, and there may possibly have
been some inclination on the part of the King to
truth and save his life. But the Jesuitical doctrine on the sub-
and falsehood which he openly pro-
fessed was enough to ruin any man. There was nothing to
make anyone believe in his innocence, except his own assertions,
and the weight of these was reduced to nothing by his known
theory and practice. His doctrine was that of the Treatise
of Equivocation which had been found in Tresham’s room,
and which had been corrected by his own hand. He not only
justified the use of falsehood by a prisoner when defending
himself, on the ground that the magistrate had no right to
require him to accuse himself, but he held the far more immoral
doctrine of equivocation. According to this doctrine, the im-
morality of a lie did not consist in the deception practised upon
* Both Andrewes and Abbot urge the plea that whoever becomes ac-
quainted with an intended crime, and neglects to reveal it, becomes an ac-
complice j but they do not give it the prominence that it deserves . — Tortura
Tm'ii^ Works of Bishop Andiewes, Oxford, 1851, p. 365, and AntilogiOy
cap. 13.
“ State Trials, ii. 342. The very long statement by Garnet from the
Hatfield MSS. 1 10, fol. 30, of which I have made so much use, is endorsed
by Salisbury : — ‘ ^ This was forbidden by the King to be given in evidence.”
Was the reason because the Queen was spoken of in it as ‘ most regarded
of the Pope,’ or simply that in it Garnet denied that he knew of the plot
out of confession.
l6o6 THE DOCTRINE OF EQUIVOCATION 281
the person who was deceived, but in the difference between the
words uttered and the intended meaning of the speaker. If,
therefore, the speaker could put any sense, however extravagant,
upon the words of which he made use, he might lawfully deceive
the hearer, without taking any account of the fact that he
would be certain to attach some other and more probable
meaning to the words. The following example given in the
treatise, was adopted by Garnet;^ ‘‘A man cometh unto
Coventry in' time of a suspicion of plague. At the gates the
officers meet him, and upon his oath examine him whether he
come from London or no, where they think certainly the plague
to be. This man, knowing for certain the plague not to be in
London, or at least knowing that the air is not there infectious,
and that he only rid through some secure place of London, not
staying there, may safely swear that he came not from London,
answering to their final intention in their demand, that is,
whether he came so from London that he may endanger their
city of the plague, although their immediate intention w^ere to
know whether he came from London or no. This man the very
light of nature would clear from perjur}^”
If all liars had been subject to punishment, it would have
gone hard with those members of the Government, whoever
they were, who, in order to involve the Jesuits in the charge of
complicity with the plot, deliberately suppressed the words in
which both Winter and Fawkes declared that Gerard, when he
administered the Sacrament to the original conspirators, was
ignorant of the oath which they had previously taken. But the
popular feeling was right in fixing upon equivocation as more
demoralising than downright lying, because a person who in
self-defence tells a falsehood, knowing it to be such, is far less
likely to deceive habitually than one who deceives with words
so framed as to enable him to imagine that he is in reality
telling no falsehood at alb That popular feeling found a voice
^ Treatise on Equivocation, p. 80. See the quotation from Casaubon’s
letter to Fronto Ducseus, in Jardine, p. 334. Garnet held that equivoca-^
tion was only to be used * where it becomes necessary to an individual for
his defence, or for avoiding any injustice or loss, without danger or mischief
to any other person.’
THE OATH OF ALLEGIANCE.
CH. VII
ill the words of the Porter in ‘ Macbeth ’ : ’Faith, here’s an
equivocator, that could swear in both scales against either scale ;
who committed treason enough for God’s sake, yet could not
equivocate to heaven.” ^
At last, on May 3, when it was evident that no further
confession could be extracted from him Garnet was executed,
the King having given orders that he should not be
cut down until he was dead, so that he might be
Execution Spared the torture of the usual barbarities. On the
of Garnet, gcaffold he persisted in his denial that he had
Jobabie positive information of the plot except in
tmhabont confession, though he allowed, as he had acknow-
ledged before, that he had had a general and con-
fused knowledge from Catesby.^ In all probability, this is the
exact truth.
Soon after the execution, all Catholic Europe was listening
with eager credulity to the story of Garnet’s straw. It was said
Garnet’s that one of the straws used upon the scaffold had a
straw. minute likeness of the martyr’s head on one of the
husks. The miracle was trumpeted abroad . by those who
should have known better, and found its way from common
conversation into the pages of grave writers. An inquiry was
instituted by the Government, and it was found that some who
had seen the straw declared that there was nothing wonderful
in the matter at all, and that the drawing could have been
easily executed by any artist of moderate skill.
Oldcorne was taken to Worcester, where he w^as convicted
* Professor Hales, in an article wliich appeared in Fraser's Magazine
for April 1S78, in which he pointed out the fact that many of the places
connected with the plot lay round Stratford-on-Avon, drew attention to
the connection between this passage and Garnet’s principles.
- The following version of this part of his speech puts this clearly : —
“Decriinine quod objiciturtormentarii pul veris, . . . ita moriar in Domino,
ac non sum conscius nisi a confessione. . . . Mihi quidem narrabat R.
Catesbeius, universe tantum ac confuse, pro sublevandi fide Catholic^
afilictissimi jamque prostrata, aliquid esse tentandum. Nihil vero qerti
exploratique narrabat.” Account of Garnet’s death, May 3, Roman
scripts y R, 0.
f6c6 THE SENTENCES IN THE STAR CHAMBER. 2S3
of treason and executed. Abington also was sentenced to
Execution of death, but was finally pardoned. The priests and
oidcome. others implicated in the plot, who w^ere now in
Flanders, were beyond the reach of the Government, as the
Archduke steadily refused to give them up.
It only remained to deal with the lords who had given cause
of suspicion by absenting themselves from the meeting of Par-
liament. Montague escaped from the Star Chamber with a
fine of 4,000/., Stourton with one of 1,000/., whilst Mordaunt
was set free upon paying 200/. to the Lieutenant of the Tower,^
Northumberland w’as a prisoner of greater importance. His
Ma-ch connection ^ with Percy brought him under suspicion,
Suspicions and the fact that Percy had come down to Sion House
forthum- to speak to him the day before the meeting of Parlia-
ment, w'as certain to strengthen whatever suspicions
w'ere entertained.
The Earl was examined on the nature of his dealings with
Percy, but nothing w’as elicited to his disadvantage. At least
up to March 3, Salisbury expressed his belief in his innocence,
though he supposed that he had probably received some general
June 27. warning from Percy.® On June 27, he was brought
before the Star Chamber, and w^as forced to listen
Chamber. to a long and passionate harangue from Coke, who,
after mentioning, as he had done in Raleigh’s case, all manner
of plots with which he was unable to prove that the prisoner
had ever been connected, charged him with having committed
certain contempts and misdemeanours against the King. His
employment of Percy to carry letters to James in Scotland was
brought against him, as if he had attempted to put himself at
the head of the Catholic party. It w^as also objected that after
the discovery of the plot he had written letters to his tenants,
directing them to keep his rents out of Percy’s hands, but
saying nothing about the apprehension of the traitor. Amidst
these trivialities appeared a charge of a graver nature. On
^ The original fines were, as usual, larger than those ultimately de-
manded. - P. 235.
® Salisbury to Edmonds, Dec. 2, 1605. Birch,, A^'^oiiations, 242.
Salisbury to Brouncker, March 3, 1606, S. P. Ireland.
284
THE OATH OF ALLEGIANCE.
CH. vn.
Jiine 9, 1604, at the very time when Percy had just signed the
lease for the house in Westminster, that traitor had been admitted
as one of the gentlemen pensioners, whose office it was to be in
daily attendance upon the King. Not only had Northumber-
land admitted him to this post, in virtue of his position as
Captain of the Pensioners, but he had admitted him without
requiring the Oath of Supremacy, and, if Coke is to be believed,
had afterwards denied the fact that the oath had not been
administered. Northumberland must have committed this
dereliction of duty with his eyes open, as shortly after the
King’s accession he had received a letter from James, distinctly
ordering that no one was to be admitted as a pensioner who
refused to take the oath.^ By this weakness— for undoubtedly
it was no more than a weakness— he had disobeyed the orders
given him, and had placed about the person of the King a man
who was engaged in plotting his death. Indeed, it was by the
opportunities offered to him by his position as a pensioner that
Percy hoped to be able to carry out that part of the plot which
related to the seizure of Prince Charles.^
The sentence was, that the Earl should forfeit all the
offices which he held under the Crown, should be imprisoned
The sen. during the King’s pleasure, and should pay a fine
tence. Qf ^OjOoo/., a sum which was afterwards reduced
to 11,000/.
It was supposed at the time,^ and it has since been generally
believed, that this harsh sentence was dictated by political
feeling, and by a desire to get rid of a spirited rival. It may
have been so, and it would have been strange if, with a court
composed as the Star Chamber was, such feelings had been
altogether excluded. Yet it must be remembered that the
admission of Percy without requiring the oath from him was
no light fault, and that it was one which was likely to make its
^ The King to Northumberland, May 18, 1603, S. P. Dorn. i. 81.
“ Proceedings against Northumberland, Harl. MSS, 589, fol. in.
Compare Add. MSS. 5494, fol. 61.
® Boderie to Villeroi, 1606, Amhassades de M. De la Boderie,
L. 180. This letter proves that the sentence was agreed upon at least t^e
day before the trial.
i6o6 BECINMNG OF A mW SESSION.
285
full Impression upon the timid mind of James. It is possible
that the nature of this fault had not come to light till a short
time before the trial, as Cecil, in a letter of March 3, does not
refer at all to the omission of the oath.^ Perhaps it may have
been the full discovery of the particulars of this transaction
which turned the scale against the Earl.
Undisturbed by the discovery of the danger which had been
so happily averted, the Parliament for which such a sudden
5 destruction had been prepared, had quietly met on
Meeting of November 5. In the Upper House po business was
ar lamen . Commons with extraordinary self-com-
mand, applied themselves to the regular routine of business.
It is difficult to understand how these men, scarcely snatched
from death, betook themselves, without apparent emotion, to
such matters as the appointment of a committee to inquire
into the regulations of the Spanish trade, and the discussion of
the petition of a member who asked to be relieved from his
Parliamentary duties because he was suffering from a fit of the
gout
On the 9th the King commanded an adjournment to
^ January 21, in order that time might be given for
Adjourn-’ further inquiry into the ramifications of the con-
spiracy.
* This letter to Brouncker, before quoted, reads like the production of
a man who meant what he said. Besides, there was no conceivable reason
for a hypocrite to mention the subject at all in writing to the President of
Munster. Salisbury writes : ** For the other great man, you know the
King’s noble disposition to be always such as, although he may not in
such a case as this forget the providence and foresight necessary in cases
public, and therefore was constrained, upon many concurring circum-
stances, to restrain liberty where he had cause of jealousy, yet, considering
the greatness of his house, and the improbability that he should be ac-
quainted with such a barbarous plot, being a man of honour and valour,
his Majesty is rather induced to believe that whatsoever any of the traitors
have spoken of him, hath been rather their vaunts than upon any other
good ground ; so as I think his liberty will, the next term, he granted
upon honourable and gracious terms, which, for my own part, though there
hath never been any extraordinary dearness between us, I wish, because
this state is very barren of men of great blood and great sufficiency to-
gether.”
286
THE OATH OF ALLEGIANCE.
CH. VII.
On their reassembling, the attention of the Houses was
necessarily directed to the danger from which they had escaped.
A Bill was eagerly passed, by which November 5 was
Jan. 21. ordered to be kept as a day of thanksgiving for ever.^
NovIiSIct continued in force for more than two cen-
set apart as turies and a half, and was only repealed when the
a day 01 . . .
thanks- scrvice which was originally the outpouring of thank-
ful hearts had long become an empty form.
A Bill of Attainder ^ was also passed, in which the names
of Owen, who was still bidding defiance to the law, and of
Bill of At- Tresham, who had died in prison, were included
tainder. those of the conspirators who had been killed
at Holbeche, or who had been executed in London. The
immediate effect of such an Act was that the lands and goods
of the whole number were at once forfeited to the Crown.
There had been, indeed, some who thought these proceed-
ings insufficient A few days before the prisoners were brought
Jan. 24. '^P ^ member of the House of Commons
proposal to moved for a petition to the King, praying him to
traordinary Stay judgment Until Parliament should have time to
punishment extraordinary mode of punishment,
offenders, might surpass in horror even the scenes which
usually occurred at the execution of traitors.^ To the credit of
the House, this proposal met with little favour, and was rejected
without a division. A similar attempt in the House
3°- Lords met with the same fate.^ It is pleasant to
know that the times were already past in which men could be
sentenced by Act of Parliament to be boiled alive, and that, in
the seventeenth century, if London had some horrible sights
still to see, it was, at least, not disgraced by scenes such as
those which, a few years later, gathered the citizens of Paris
round the scaffold of Ravaillac.
^ ^ j It can hardly surprise us that, in spite of this
£«ainst the general feeling against the infliction of extraordinary
Parliament had no scruple in increas-
^ 3 Jac. 1. cap. I.
a C. J. Jan. 24, i. 259.
a 3 Jac. I. cap. 2.
^ L. y. Jan. 30, ii. 365.
i6o6 NE W RECUSANC Y LA WS. 287
ing the severity of the recusancy laws.^ For the hist time, a
sacramental test was to be introduced into the service of per-
secution. It was not to be enough that a recusant had been
brought to conformity, and had begun once more to attend
the parish church ; unless he would consent to receive the
sacrament from the hands of the Protestant minister, he was to
be called upon to pay a heavy fine. It is impossible to con-
ceive a greater degradation of that rite which the whole Christian
Church agrees in venerating.
In order to stimulate the activity of the churchwardens
and the parish constables, it was enacted that a fine of twenty
shillings should be laid upon them whenever they neglected to
present persons who absented themselves from church ; and
that, on the other hand, they should receive a reward of double
the amount upon every conviction obtained through their means.
Up to this time, the very rich had escaped the extreme
penalties of recusancy, as, when once they had paid the monthly
fine, the law had no further claim upon them, though the
amount of their fine might be of far less value than the two-
thirds of the profits of their estate which vrould have been taken
from them if they had been poorer men. The King was now
empowered to refuse the fine and to seize the land at once.
In order that the poorer Catholics might feel the sting of the
law. a penalty of 10/. was to be laid every month upon all
persons keeping servants who absented themselves from church.
By this means, it was thought that the numerous servants in the
houses of the Catholic gentry would be driven into conformity
or deprived of their employment.
This was not all : it was ordered that no recusant should
appear at Court, or even remain within ten miles of London,
unless he were actually engaged in some recognised trade or
employment. A statute of the late reign was also confirmed,
which prohibited recusants from leaving their houses for any
distance above five miles.^ It may be allowed that recent ex-
perience justified the exclusion of the Catholics from all public
offices in the State ; but it was hard to forbid them, as the new
3 Jac. I cap. 4 and 5.
* 35 Eliz. cap. 2.
THE OATH OF ALLEGIANCE.
CH. VtJ.
2S8
Statute did, from practising at the bar, from acting as attorneys
or as physicians, or from executing trusts committed to them by
a relative as executors to his will, or as guardians to his children.
Further penalties awaited them if they were married, or suifered
their children to be baptized, with any other rites than those of
the Church of England. All books inculcating the principles of
their religion were to be destroyed, and permission was given
to the justices of the peace to visit their houses at any time, in
order to deprive them of all arms beyond the little stock which
might be considered necessary for the defence of their lives
and property.
These harsh measures were accompanied by the imposition
of a new oath of allegiance. This oath was framed for the
The new purpose of making a distinction between the Catholics
who still upheld the Pope’s deposing power and those
who were willing to denounce that tenet. Objectionable as
all political oaths are, and unjust as are the penalties which
are inflicted on those who refuse to take them, the introduce
tion of a declaration of loyalty might, at this time, have been
a step in the right direction. K it was thought necessary
that Catholics should be punished at all, it was better that
they should suffer for refusing to acknowledge that their Sove-
reign possessed an independent authority than that they
should suffer for refusing to go to church. It was in some
degree creditable to James and his ministers that, at such a
time, they were able to remember the possibility of making a
distinction between the loyal and the disloyal amongst the
Catholics ; but that which might have been an instrument of
good, became in their hands an instrument of persecution. It
was enacted that the oath might be tendered to all recusants
not being noblemen or noble women, and that those who re-
fused to take it should incur the harsh penalties of a premunire,
whilst those who took it still remained subject to the ordinary
burdens of recusancy. The oath which might have been used
to lighten the severity of the laws which pressed so heavily even
upon the loyal Catholics, was only employed to increase the
burdens upon those who refused to declare their disbelief in a
tenet which was inculcated by the most venerated teachers of their
THE CANom OF
t6od
Church, and which might be held innocuously by thousands
who would never dream of putting it in practice.
Parliament had thus acted, as it was only too likely to act,
under the influence of panic. It had replied to the miserable
^ crime of a few fanatics by the enactment of an unjust
Canons , ,
drawn up by and barbarous statute* Convocation determined to
onvoca ion. Opportunity of enunciating those principles
of government which were considered by its members to be the
true antidote against such attempts. Under Bancroft’s guidance,
a controversial work ^ was produced, to which, as well as to the
canons which were interspersed amongst its pages, that body
gave its unanimous consent These canons, as well as the
arguments by which they were accompanied, have been, in
later times, justly condemned as advocating, at least indirectly,
an arbitrary form of government It should, however, in
justice to the men by 'whom they were drawn up, be re-
membered that, if the solution which they proposed for the
difficulties of the time was not a happy one, it was at least put
forward with the intention of meeting actual and recognised
evils. Their argument indeed struck at Papist and Presby-
terian alike, but it was evident that it was intended as a mani-
festo against the Church of Rome. That Church had based
its assaults on the national sovereignties of Europe upon two
distinct theories : at times the right of the Pope to depose
kings had been placed in the foreground ; at other times re-
sistance was encouraged against constituted authorities under
the guise of the democratic doctrine of popular sovereignty.
In the name of the one theory, England had been exposed to
invasion, and Elizabeth had been marked out for the knife of
the assassin ; in the name of the other theory, the fair plains of
France had been deluged with blood, and her ancient monarchy
had been shattered to the base. All true-hearted Englishmen
were of one mind in condemning the falsehood of the prin-
ciples which had produced such results as these. Government,
they believed, was of Divine institution, and was of far too high
a nature to be allowed to depend upon the arbitrary will of the
' Published in 1690, under the title of Bishop OveralPs Comotaiiim
Booh.
VOL. I.
U
' THE OATH OF ALLEGIANCE.
CH. Vil.
290
Pope, or of any body of clergy whatever ; still less should it
depend upon the equally arbitrary will of the people ; it ought
not to be based upon will at all ; it was only upon right that it
could rest securely.
Such a theory had evidently a better side than those are
accustomed to perceive who malign the Church of England as
a mere handmaid of tyranny. It was a recognition, in the
only way which, in that age, was possible, of the truth that
society is a whole and that religious teachers cannot right-
fully claim a place apart from it, as if they were removed from
the errors and failings of human nature. Where tho'ie who held
this theory went astray was in the mistake which they made as to
the permanence of the special organization of the society in
which they lived. They fancied that the Elizabethan monarchy
ought to be perpetual. It was not unnatural that they should
fancy that James was even greater than Elizabeth had been;
that he was indeed the rising sun, come to take the place
of a ‘ bright, occidental star.’ • Not a suspicion ever crossed
their minds- that their ecclesiastical cause was not the cause
of God, and they knew that for the -support of that cause
they could depend upon the King alone. It was one of the
first articles of their creed, that the people could be moulded
into piety by their system, and it was plain that, without
the King’s help, their system would crumble into dust. Was
it wonderful, then, that they thought less of the law and more
of the Sovereign than their lay fellow-countrymen? Was it
strange that they read history and Scripture with jaundiced
eyes, and that they saw nothing there but the doctrine that, in
each nation, the power of the Sovereign w^ho for the time being
occupied the throne, was held by the special appointment of
God, and that this power was of such a nature that under
no imaginable circumstances- was it lawful to resist it? The
fact was, that the rule of James appeared to them as the rule
of -right over la»vlessness, and that they gladly elevated into a
principle that which, in their eyes, was- true in the individual
base. ' *
-.• But! Whatever may have been the circumstances ■ under
which the doctrine of non-resistance originated, it is certaii?
i6o6
NON-RESISTANCE,
291
that it was false in itself, and that it hung like a blight for
Conse- years over the energies of England. If it had
doctrin obtained general recognition, it would have cut
of non-re- at the root of all that has made the nation to be what
is ; it would have eaten out that sense of right,
and that respect for the law, which is at the bottom of all the
progress of the country.
Strange as it may seem, the first blow directed against this
elaborately-constructed theory came from the King himself. A
James’s doctrine which based his claim to the obedience oF
letter to his subj'ects merely upon the fact of his being in
Abbot. . 1 T
possession of the crown, was not likely to find much
favour in his eyes. According to this reasoning, as he justly
.observed, if the King of Spain should ever conquer England,
his own subjects would be precluded from attempting to shake
off the yoke of the invader. Nor was it only to that part of the
canons which struck at his own hereditary title that James
objected : he told the astonished clergy plainly that, whatever
they might think, it was not true that tyranny could ever be of
God^s appointment. He was himself desirous to maintain the in-
dependence of the Dutch, and he did not believe that in so doing
he was assisting them to throw off an authority ordained of
God.^ He accordingly refused to give his consent to this un-
lucky production of the Convocation.
If the theories of the Bishops gave offence to the King, they
were far more likely to provoke opposition on the part of those
The Com- lookiiig to the law of England as the one
mons pro- great safeguard against arbitrary power of every de-
the opbion scription. The Canons of 1604 had given umbrage
cation can' to the Commons, especially as, in ratifying them,
bindbg*^^* Jamcs had commanded them to ‘ be diligently ob-
wnSnt of served, executed, and equally kept by all our loving
Parliament, subjccts of this our kingdom.’ ^ The Commons, of
course, resented this claim of the clergy to legislate for the
whole people of England, and especially their attempt to create
punishable offences, a right which they held to be inherent in
' Tho King to Abbot. Wilkins’s Cone. iv. 405
* Cardwell’s SynodaHa, 328.
Tim OATH OP allpgtjhcp.
cH Vft.
Parliament alone. A Bill was accordingly brought in^ in the
course of the following session, for the purpose of restraining
the execution of all canons which had not been confirmed by
Parliament The Bishops, however, had sufficient influence to
procure its rejection by the House of Lords.
Whatever the Catholics may have thought of this produc-
tion of the Convocation, the oath of allegiance was to them a
The oath of f^r more serious matter. It had been, indeed, framed
allegiance. intention of making it acceptable to all loyal
persons. The Pope’s claim to excommunicate Sovereigns was
left unquestioned. The oath was solely directed against his sup-
posed right of pronouncing their deposition, and of authorising
their subjects to take up arms against them. Those who took
it were to declare that no such right existed, to promise that
they would take no part in any traitorous conspiracies, and to
abjure the doctrine that excommunicated princes might be
deposed or murdered by their subjects.
To the oath itself it is impossible to find any reasonable
objection. If there had ever been a time when the infant
The de- nations required the voice of the Pope to summon
poSef of tyranny, that time had long passed by.
iiie Popes. deposing power in the hands of the Popes of the
sixteenth century had been an unmixed evil. The oath too may
fairly be regarded as a serious attempt to draw a line of separation
between the loyal and the disloyal Catholics, and if it had been
accompanied with a relaxation of the penal laws in favour of
those who were willing to take it, it would have been no incon-
siderable step in advance. Its framers, however, forgot that there
w^ould be large numbers, even of the loyal Catholics, who would
refuse to take the oath. Men who would have been satisfied
to allow the deposing power to be buried in the folios ’of theo-
logians, and who would never have thought of allowing it to have
any practical influence upon their actions, were put upon their
mettle as soon as they were required to renounce a theory which
they had been taught from their childhood to believe in almost
as one of the articles of their faith. Nor would their tenacity be
without a certain moral dignity. Unfounded and pernicious as
the Papal theory was, it certainly gains by comparison with that
FINANCIAL DISORDER.
293
1605
mere adoration of existing power which had just been put for-
ward by Convocation as the doctrine of the Church of England.
In the midst of its discussions on weightier matters, Parlia-
ment had found some time to devote to the consideration of
Emptiness Kiiig’s necessities. Ever since James’s accession,
of the the state of the Exchequer had been such as to cause
Exchequer. trouble to those who were responsible for
the administration of the finances. The long war had consider-
ably affected, at least for a time, the resources of the Crown.
Parsimonious as she was, Elizabeth had been compelled, during
the last five years of her reign, to sell land to the value of
372,000/.,^ and had besides contracted a debt of 400,000/.
There was indeed, when James came to the throne, a portion
still unpaid of the subsidies which had been voted in the time
of his predecessor, which was estimated as being about equal in
amount to the debt, yet if this money w^ere applied to the extinc-
tion of the debt it was difficult to see how the expenses of the
Government w'ere to be met If the King had modelled his
expenditure upon that of Elizabeth, he could hardly succeed in
reducing it much below 330,000/., and during the past years of his
reign his income from other than Parliamentary sources fell short
of this by more than 30,000/.^ It is probable, indeed, that some
of the revenue which should have supplied the wants of James had
been anticipated by his predecessor. Either from this cause, or
from some other reason connected with the returning prosperity
consequent upon the cessation of the war, the receipts of 1604
were much larger than those of the preceding year. But whatever
hope might be entertained on this account, was counterbalanced
by the confusion caused by the extraordinary expenses which were
likely for some time to press upon the Exchequer. The funeral of
> Comparative review of the Receipts and Expenditure, July 24, 1608,
S. P. Dorn. XXXV. 29.
2 Compare the calculations in I-ansd. MS^. 164, fols. 435, 436, 505,
507, with those in Parliamentary Debates in 1610, Camd. Soc., Introd. x.
The latter do not include the Court of Wards and the Dpchy of Lancaster,
and they commence the year at Easter instead of at Michaelmas. The
amount of the debt at James’s accession, which is variously stated in
different reports of speeches, is fixed by the ofiicial account in the S,
, xix. 45.
294
TH?: OATH OF ALLEGIANCE,
CH. VII
the late Queen, the King’s entry and coronation, the entertainnienl
of the Spanish ambassadors, and other necessary expenses, would'
entail a charge of at least 100,000/., a sum which bore about
the same relation to the income of 1603 as a sudden demand
for 26,000,000/. would bear to the revenue of the present day.
The financial position of James, therefore, was beset with
difficulties. But it was not hopeless. If he had consented to
Prospects of regulate his expenditure, not indeed by the scale of the
a remedy, pai'simonious reign, but in such a way as a man
of ordinary business habits would have been certain to ap-
prove of, he might, in the course of a few years, have found
himself independent of Parliament, excepting in times of
extraordinary emergency. There were many ways in which the
revenue was capable of improvement, and it would not be many
years before a balance might once more be struck between the
receipts and the outgoings of the Exchequer ; but there was
little^ hope that, even if James had been less extravagant than
he was, the needful economy would be practised. Elizabeth
had been her own minister of finance, and had kept in check
the natural tendency to extravagance which exists wherever
there is no control over the heads of the various departments
of the State and of the Household. With her death this salu-
tary control was at an end, and no official body similar to the
present Board of Treasury was at hand to step into the vacant
place. James, indeed, from time to time, was ready enough to
express his astonishment at what was going on. He never
failed to promise retrenchment whenever his attention was
called to the state of his finances, and to declare that he had at
last made up his mind to change his habits ; but no sooner had
some new fancy struck him, or some courtier approached him
with a tale of distress, than he was sure to fling his prudence to the
winds. The unlucky Treasurer was only called upon, when it
was too late to remonstrate, to find the money as he could.
Growth of Every year the expenditure was growing. In the
ture twelve months which came to an end at Michaelmas
oY the debt, jt had reached what in those days was con-
sidered to be,^ for a year of peace, the enormous sum of
» That is to say, the income from unparliamentary sources. The'
l6o6
FINANCIAL DISORDER.
295
466,000/.^ To meet this every nerve had been strained in
vain. The revenue had been improved, and the subsidies
voted in the time of Elizabeth had been diverted from the
repayment of the debt, in order to meet the current expendi-
ture. Large debts had been incurred in addition to the debt
which was already in existence. Money had been obtained by
a forced loan bearing no interest, which had been raised by
Privy Seals immediately after the close of the session of 1604,
and in addition to this easy mode of putting off the difficulty,
recourse had been had to the method of borrowing consider-
able sums at what was then the ordinary rate of 10 per cent.
After all this, it was still found to be necessary to leave many
bills unpaid. At the beginning of i6a6, the whole debt
amounted to 735, 000/., ^ and it was calculated that the annual
deficit would reach 5 1,000/., without allowing for those extra-
ordinary expenses to which, under James’s management, it was
impossible to place any limit, but which seldom fell short of
loojooo/. a year.
The King’s extravagance had shown itself in various ways.
About 40,000/. were annually given away, either in presents or
in annuities paid to men who had done little or nothing to
merit the favour which they had received.^ Those into whose
subsidies were uncertain, and should have been applied to the redemption
of the debt
> When Parliament met in 1606 £
The ordinary issues were ..... 366,790
The ordinary receipts . . . , 314,959
Excess of issues j^5i,83i
( 5 ’. P. Dom. xix. 46.) Besides this, it was found that the actual receipts
had fallen short of the estimates by 6,000/. The extraordinary expendi-
ture appears from the Fells Declarations to have been about 100,000/.,
making a total expenditure of about 466,000/
2 By Dorset’s declaration £
The King’s debt at his accession was . , . 400,000
His extraordinary expenses during three years . 104,000
The new debt ....... 231,280
(i; P. Dom. xix. 45.)
2 Parliamentary debates in 1610, Camd. Soe, Introd. p, xiii.
296
THE OATH OF ALLEGIANCE.
CH. VII.
pockets the golden stream was flowing were not the statesmen
who were consulted by the King on every question of impor-
tance ; they were the men who, whether of Scottish or of
English birth, had raised themselves by their ability to tickle
their patron’s ear with idle jests, and to minister to his amuse-
ments in his leisure hours. Under such conditions, the expenses
of the Court swelled every yean The pension list grew longer,
the jewels more costly, and the robes more gorgeous than those
with which Elizabeth had been content In political life,
indeed, the Ramsays and the Herberts were as yet kept in the
background. As long as Salisbury lived, such as they were
not allowed to meddle with appointments to office, or to sway
the destinies of the State ; but their very presence at Court
must have been highly obnoxious to the grave and sober men
who formed so large a part of the House of Commons.
Yet, unless the Commons could be persuaded to come
forward with liberal supplies, James would not only be com-
Oct.iS to pause in his career of extravagance, but
1^5. would be unable to meet the most justifiable
wshes to te demands on the Exchequer. Salisbury, wEo knew
economical, would be necessary to make application to
Parliament, had been urgent with James to retrench. Within
three weeks of the meeting of Parliament, James had done all
that words could do to show how completely he recognised the
danger of his situation. “ I cannot,” he wnrote to Salisbury on
October 18, “but be sensible of that needless and unreasonable
profusion of expenses, whereof you wrote me in your last. My
only hope that upholds me is my good servants, that will sweat
and labour for my relief. Otherwise I could rather have
wished, with Job, never to have been, than that the glorious
sunshine of my first entry here should be so soon overcast
with the dark clouds of irreparable misery. I have promised,
and I will perform it, that there shall be no default in me ; my
only comfort will be to know it is mendable. For my appre-
hension of this state — however I disguise it outwardly— hath
done me more harm already than ye would be glad of.”^
On February 10, whilst the feelings of the Commons were
^ Hai/fld MSS. 134, fol. p,
i6o6
COMMITTEE OF SUPPLY.
297
still under the influence of their great deliverance, the sub-
Feb. 10. ject of a supply was brought forw'ard. The greater
number of speakers proposed a grant of two subsidies
and four fifteenths, which would amount to about
250,000/.^ The whole matter was, however, referred
to a Committee, which was to meet on the following afternoon.
Of this Committee Bacon was a member. He was now
looking forward again to promotion. In October, 1604, the
^ , Solicitor-Generalship had been vacant, but he had
poMtion in once more been passed over in favour of Sir John
the House. pQ^jgridge. He can hardly have failed to gain
the King’s favour, a few weeks later, by the zeal which he
showed in the consultations of the Commissioners on the
Union; and it had become evident, by the course taken by
the Commons in the last session, that it was more than ever
necessary to secure the services of a man of ability and talent,
who might take the lead in the debates. Such a part w^as
exactly to his mind. In October 1605, he bad completed his
great work on ‘ The Advancement of Learning,’ and he was now
eager to devote himself to politics. Anxious as he was for
reform, he wished to see it proceed from the Crown, and he
had not given up hope that the mistakes of James were a
* A subsidy was an income-tax of 4^. in the pound upon the annual
value of land worth 20^. a-year, and a property-tax of 2r, Sd. in the pound
upon the actual value of all personal property worth 3/. and upwards.
Personal property was, therefore, much more heavily burdened than real
property. The tenths and fifteenths were levied upon the counties and
boroughs at a fixed rate, settled by a valuation made in the reign of
Edward III. Each county or borough was responsible for a certain sum,
which was levied by persons appointed by its representatives in the House
of Commons. The subsidies were levied by Commissioners appointed by
the Chancellor from amongst the inhabitants of the county or borough.
Apparently, from the laxity of these Commissioners, the receipts had been
Steadily decreasing. Thus—
One subsidy of the laity, with two loths and £
I5ths, produced in 13 Eliz. . . . 175,690
Ditto in 35 Eliz 152,290
Ditto in 43 Eliz. 134,470
Ditto in 3 Jac. . . . , , 123,897
Oct. 28, 1608,— tS". P, Lorn, xxxvij. 38.
THE OATH OF ALLEGIANCE,
CH. vn.
298
mere passing cloudy which would be removed as soon as he
was rendered accessible to good advice. To serve the King
in any capacity which would enable him to share in the councils
of the State had long been the object of his ambition. In this
session, however, there were few difficulties of a nature to call
for the exercise of superior powers. The effect of the discovery
of the Gunpowder plot had been to produce a strong feeling in
Feb. 10. the King’s favour.^ On the first morning after the
appointment of the Committee, the King thanked
House. the House for its offer to supply his wants, and
signified his readiness to allow the question of purveyance to
be again taken into consideration. A few days afterwards,
Feb. 14. however, at a conference held on this subject, the
Lord Treasurer took the opportunity of expatiating
explained, on the King’s necessities. A month passed before
the question was taken up by the House itself, and then, on
Subsidies March 14, a proposition w'as made to increase the
granted. supply to which they had already agreed. ^ There
was some opposition, and the debate was adjourned till the
1 8th. When the House met on that day, a message was
brought from the King, begging them to come to a speedy
decision, one way or the other, upon the proposed supply, as
he was unwilling to see his necessities exposed to any fiirther
discussion. Upon this, after some debate, an additional sub-
sidy with its accompanying two fifteenths was voted, and a
Committee was appointed to draw up the Bill. On the 25th,
Bacon reported the recommendations of the Committee. A
debate ensued upon the length of time which was to be allowed
for the payment of the six portions into which the
supply granted was to be divided ; and it was not
without difficulty that Bacon carried his proposal that the
whole grant should be levied before May, 1610.
» C. y. i. 266.
2 C. y. i. 271. There is no mention of the report of the Committee,
but it must be supposed that they recommended a Bill for two .subsidies
and four fifteenths, as Salisbury speaks, on March 9, of the grant as
already ipade, though nothing had been done formally (Salisbury to Mar,
March, 1606, S. P. Dom. ix. 27),
l6o6
END OF THE SESSION.
299
His arguments were rendered more palatable by a circum-
stance which had occurred a few days previously. On the 22nd
March 2?. 2. rumour reached London that the King had been.
Se1SnJ’s°^ murdered, and when the report proved false, the mem-
death. bers must have felt that, much as they might dislike
many of James’s actions, they could hardly afford to lose him.
Prince Henry was still a child, and the prospect of a minority
at such a lime was not to be regarded with complacency.
The readiness with which this supply was granted was the
more remarkable because the efforts of the Commons to pass
Efforteto ^ Shi against the abuses of purveyance had been
wecked on the resistance of the Lords. Nor were
purvej-ance. j-^ey satisfied by a proclamation in which the King
put an end to most of those abuses, as he left untouched the
claim of his officers to settle at their pleasure the prices which
they would give. It appears, however, that the officers took
care not to revert to their old malpractices, and some years later
the counties agreed to a composition by which a sum of money
was to be paid annually in lieu of the burden of purveyance.
Not only did the Commons pass their subsidy bill in spite
of this treatment, but they did not insist upon obtaining an
immediate answer to the petition of grievances which
they had drawn up. They contented themselves
ances. leaving it for the consideration of the Govern-
ment during the recess. On May 27 Parliament was prorogued,
and the King and the Lower House parted in far better humour
with one another than at the close of the preceding session.
A few days after the prorogation, the death of Sir Francis
Gawdy, the Chief Justice of the Common Pleas, threw into the
June 29. Crown one of the most important of the
Coke’s pro- legal appointments in its gift. The place was given
motion. Coke, whose services during the trials of the
Gunpowder conspirators thus obtained their reward. Coke’s
Bacon hopes ^^emoval Opened a prospect of promotion to Bacon, as
the two men were on such bad terms with one another
General. that they could not be expected to work together in
offices so closely connected as were those of the two chief legal
advisers of the Crown. At the time when Bacon was engaged in
300
THE OATH OF ALLEGIANCE.
CH. VII.
supporting the Government in Parliament during the session
which was just concluded^ he had received promises of promo-
tion both from Salisbury and from the King himself. Ellesmere,
who always looked with favour upon Bacon, had suggested that
whenever the Attorney-General should go up to the Bench,
Doderidge, the Solicitor- General, might rise to the post of
King’s Serjeant Bacon might then succeed Doderidge, and
the Attorney- General’s place, to which he made no claim,
would be at the disposal of the Government’ Accordingly, when
July the vacancy occurred, the Attorne5'ship was conferred
£coSs Henry Hobart, a sound lawyer and an up-
GencraF right Ilian, who had Salisbury’s good word on his side. '
Bacon is not Doderidge, however, remained Solicitor-General for
promoted, another year, and Bacon failed to receive the appoint-
ment which he had been led to expect, though the reasons of
his failure are left to conjecture.
From cares of state James easily turned aside to his
pleasures. Scarcely was the session over when he w^as looking
July ly. anxiously for the arrival of his brother-in-law, Christian
IV. of Denmark. The two kings enjoyed one
Denmark, another’s company, hunted together, and feasted to-,
gether. Christian was an able ruler, but he was addicted to
drinking beyond all bounds of moderation. The English court
caught the infection of evil. At a feast given by Salisbury to
their Majesties at Theobalds, English ladies, who were to have
taken part in a masque, reeled about the hall in a state of in-
toxication, and the King of Denmark was carried oflf to bed
when he was no longer able to stand. James showed no sign
of displeasure that these things had taken place in his presence.
If he did not do evil himself, he was without the power of
checking those who did.
* Bacon to the King, Letters and Life, iii. 293.
® Harington’s antiques^ ii. 12$,
CHAPTER VIIL
THE POST-NATI.
In the busy session which had come to an end in May 1606,
no time had been found for a discussion on that union with
, , Scotland which James had so much at heart- By
1606. 1 -I T 1 • ^
common consent the whole subject was postponed to
e Un the ensuing winter. WHiatever difficulties might stand
postponed, King’s Way in England, it hardly seemed likely
that he would meet with serious opposition in Scotland. Al-
■ ready, yf ' 1 st the English Parliament w'as still in session, events
had occui. A in the northern kingdom which showed ho’w
much James could there venture on with impunity.
It is usually taken for granted that the accession of James
to the throne of England enabled him to interfere with greater
1603. weight in Scottish affairs, and that it contributed in
S?K?ntfs small degree to the subsequent overthrow of the
AringHsh Presbyterian system. There can be little doubt that
throne. the cffects of the change have been considerably ex-
aggerated. It is true, indeed, that James was now safe from
personal attack, but for any practical purpose his strength was
hardly greater than it was before. He found no standing army
in England which might serve to overawe his Scottish subj'ects,
and, even if he had attempted to raise English forces to suppress
any movement in the North, he would certainly have roused
a spirit of resistance in all classes. Nor was the money wffiich
he squandered upon some of his countrymen likely to conciliate
opposition. The *Jien whose ijames figure in the accounts of
the English Exchequer as receivers of pensions or of gifts, the
THE POST-NJTI.
CH. vm.
502
Hays, the Ramsays, and the Humes, were not the men who
held the destinies of Scotland in their hands. The great nobi-
lity, who now formed the chief supports of the throne, and the
statesmen who carried on the government of the country in the
name of their Sovereign, were not appreciably the richer for the
change which had placed James upon the throne of England.^
TOatever may have been the value of the victory which had
been won by the King over the Presbyterian clergy, it was at
least won by Scottish hands. It was to the coalition
His success ‘ ^ ,1 , , ,
owin^tohis between the Crown and the nobility that the success
with the of J ames was owing. The nobility, having abandoned
nobility. retaining their independence, were eager
to obtain in exchange the direction of the government of tHe
country. Before such strength as they were able to put forth
when united under the Crown all resistance on the part of the
clergy was impossible, and, with very few exceptions, they
looked with jealous eyes upon the Presbyterian Church. The
eloquence and the moral vigour of the clergy still caused James
to hesitate before proceeding to extremities ; but it is unlikely
that, under any circumstances, he would have long refrained
from putting forth his power, and he certainly was not possessed
of sufficient wisdom to shrink from using for that purpose his
creatures the Bishops.
If, however, the change in James’s position did not enable
him to throw any greater weight than he had hitherto done into
the scale of Scottish ecclesiastical politics, it was such as to
make him look upon the contest in which he had been engaged
from a new point of view, and to inspire him with greater re-
solution in dealing with that system of Church government
which was every day assuming darker colours in his eyes. I'he
example of the English Church was too enticing, and the con-
trast between the Convocation of the Province of Canterbury and
a Scottish General Assembly was too striking, not to make him
eager to free himself from what he considered as the disorderly
scenes which, when he had been in Scotland, had continually
interfered with the success of his most cherished projects.
^ In one or two instances the salaries of Scotch officials were paid out
of the English Exchequer, but these were of no great amount.
GENERAL ASSEMBLIES.
i6os
Foj- a time, however, James seems to have laid aside his
intention A introducing episcopacy into Scotland. His first in-
, 1604. terference, on a large scale, with the Church after
he crossed the Borders, was his postponement for
AberdeS ^ twelvemonth of the General Assembly which had
postponed, been appointed to meet at Aberdeen in July 1604.
It was no mere prorogation that he had in mind. In the fol-
March, 160S. lowing March he wTote that, unless the English Privy
itoSs to Council advised him to the contrary, he would never
another General Assembly as long as he lived. ^
assemblies. If the Scottish Church would not submit to the or-
ganization which he believed to be the best, it should have no
organization at all.
But, either from deliberate intention, or from mere careless-
ness, James set aside, upon his own responsibility, the law of
the land. By the Act of 1592, to which the Presbyterian system
owed its legal establishment, it was declared to be lawful for
the Church to hold its General Assemblies at least once a year,
if certain forms which had been complied with on this occasion
were observed. And he had himself, at the last meeting of the
Assembly, given his consent to the observance of this Act for
the future.
Such disregard for the rights of the clergy was sure to draw
upon James the suspicions of all who reverenced the existing
constitution of the Church In spite of the King’s orders, the
Presbytery of St Andrews, which was always the first to start
forward as the champion of Presbyterianism, sent three ministers
to Aberdeen, who, finding themselves alone, came away, leaving
behind them a written protest that they were not to blame for
the consequences of such a breach of the laws of God and man.
Though the Presbytery of St Andrews stood alone in pro-
testing against the illegality of the adjournment, there can be
little doubt that the dissatisfaction was widely spread. The
representatives of the Church, or, as they were commonly
called, the Commissioners of the General Assembly, had been
chosen in accordance with the Act of the Assembly of 1600.
7’hough they had not been suffered to sit in Parliament, they
* The King to Cranborne, March 14, 1605, Haifield^MSS. 188, fol. 90,
THE POST-NATL
CH.
had been treated with respect by the King, aiid had been con-
sulted on Church affairs, to the exclusion of other ministers. At
a meeting of the ministers held at Perth in October 1604, hard
Oct. 1604. words were spoken both of the Bishops and of these
mSersft Commissioners of the Assembly, who were accused of
Perth. usjjjg position to draw all ecclesiastical power into
their hands. The King’s declaration that he had no intention
of altering the existing system, which seems to have been in ac-
cordance with his intentions at the time,^ was looked upon with
suspicion. This suspicion was converted into certainty upon
June 7, 1605. the appearance, in June 1605, of a letter addressed
^onement°of Presbyteries by the King’s Commissioner, Sir
Alexander Straiton, of Lauriston, and the Commis-
sioners of the Assembly, informing them that the
King had directed another prorogation of the Assembly, which
they had in the meantime themselves summoned to meet in
July at Aberdeen, on the ground that it was impossible for him
to consider of the matters which would come before them until
the close of the sessions of the two Parliaments, which were to
be engaged in settling the question of the union.^
In committing this renewed breach of the law, James
appears to have been influenced by the belief that, if he
allowed the Assembly to meet, it would denounce
the Bishops and overthrow even what little had
been done by the earlier Assemblies in favour of the
appointment of representatives of the Church in Parliament, ^
and when news was brought to the Chancellor of the meeting
of the Assembly, he at once asked ‘ if there was any Act made
against the Bishops and Commissioners. ’ ^ To the Bishops,
indeed, who actually sat in Parliament, the Assembly could
do little harm, as they held their seats by virtue of the
Act of Parliament passed in 1597, and they would not be
affected by a repeal of the Act of the Assembly, by which
1 See p. 76. * Calderwood^ vi. 271. ® Forbes’s Records^ 384.
^ This must be the meaning of Spottiswoode’s statement, ‘ that the
King was informed that ministers intended to call in question all the con-
clusions taken in former Assemblies for the episcopal government,’ iii. 157.
Forles^ 401.
i6o5 COMMISSiaXERS AND BISHOPS. 305
voters were allowed to appear on behalf of the Church. Indeed;
several new Bishops, and the two Archbishops of St Andrews
and Glasgow, Gladstanes and Spottiswoode, had been recently
appointed by the King, without the slightest pretence of con-
forming to the mode of election prescribed by the Assembly.
With the Commissioners the case was different Their tenure
of office was at an end as soon as the next Assembly met, and
by simply refusing to reappoint them, the Assembly would put
an end to the only link which existed for the time between the
King and the Church. That such a course w'ould be adopted
was not in itself unlikely. They were, not unreasonably, regarded
with great dislike by the vehement Presbyterians, as men who
lent the weight of their authority to the support of the Crown
against the clergy. That such a body should be in existence,
in some form or another, w^as looked upon by James as a neces-
sary part of the system upon which he proposed to govern the
Church. If he could have been sure of having commissioners
always by his side who would give him the support of an e('-
clesiastical authority in keeping the clergy in due submission 10
himself, he would probably have been satisfied. But this was
e.xactiy what he never could be sure of. Day by day the epis-
copal system appeared more desirable in his eyes. It w^as not
an ecclesiastical, it was purely a political question. Commis-
sioners ow^ed a divided allegiance, and might be removed from
office at any time. Bishops were creatures of his own, and,
by the very necessity of their position, w’^ould do his bidding,
whatever it might be.
Against this attempt of the King to interfere with the
Church all that was noblest in Scotland revolted. The Presby-
presbvterian tcrians felt that they had right on their side. It was
opposition, impossible that such a scheme as that of James could
be confined to restricting them from^ interfering with merely
temporal matters. If their Assemblies were silenced, or if they
were only allowed to vote and speak under the eye of the
Court, there was an end for ever of that freedom for which they
had struggled so manfully. The kingdom of Christ, of which
they constituted themselves the champions, may have been
possessed in their eyes of attributes and po’wers which had their
THE POSTNATL
CH. vin.
origin merely in Uieir own imaginations ; but it is impossible
to mistake the real nature of the contest in which they were
engaged. It was one, like that between the medieval Popes
and Emperors, out of which, at the time when it was entered
on, no satisfactory issue was possible. The King, in claiming
to silence the voice of the clergy when it was disagreeable to
himself, was in reality attempting to silence that criticism in
the absence of which all authority becomes stagnant and
corrupt The clergy, in claiming the right of criticism for
themselves alone, in the name of an assumed Divine right, was
making the independent development of lay society impossible.
The only real cure for the disorder was complete liberty of
speech, and liberty of speech, in the face of the immense power
of the nobility, was only attainable by organization. To crush
that organization, as James was now preparing to do, was to
play into the hands of the nobility, and to weaken, as far as it
was possible, the strongest bulwark of thought over force which
then existed in Scotland.
This time, too, the law of the land was on the side of the
clergy. The Act of 1592 distinctly guaranteed the yearly
meetings of the Assembly. When, therefore, it was known
that the King had ordered the Assembly to be again postponed,
though the majority were unwilling to irritate him by disobey-
ing the command, there were a few who felt that to yield at such
a time would be to betray the cause of the Church and of the
law, from fear of the consequences of resisting an arbitrary and
illegal mandate.
On July 2, 1605, therefore, nineteen ministers assembled at
Aberdeen, . A few more would have joined them, if they had
M t’ of suppose that the day of meeting had
themTmstei-s been tlic 5th instead of the 2nd of the month. ^ I'his
at Aberdeen, letter by which the prorogation
had been notified to them has been supposed to have been
owing to a design on the part of the Government to bring them
to Aberdeen in detached bodies.
As soon as this little handful were assembled, Straiten pr&
* Forks , 386. Cddcrvsood^ vi. 322.
THE ASSEMBLY AT ABERDEEN.
307
sented them with a letter from the lords of the Council As,
however, the letter was directed ^ To the Brethren of
iton pre- ’
with the Ministry convened in their Assembly in Aber-
letterofthe deen,’ they refused to open it till they had consti-
Councii. themselves into a regular Assembly by choosing
a Moderator. Straiton, after suggesting John Forbes of Alford
as a proper person, left the room. As soon as he was gone,
Forbes was unanimously elected, and, the Assembly being com
stituted, the letter of the Council was opened. It was found to
contain a warning not to offend the King by meeting without
hi.i consent, and an order to leave Aberdeen w'ithout appointing
any time or place for the next Assembly. To the first point
the ministers were ready to agree. They had no wish to push
matters to extremities by attempting to transact business in
defiance of the King ; but they were by no means willing to
suriender the independence of the Assembly, by leaving in
the King’s hands the appointment of its meetings. They did,
however, what they could to avoid anything which looked like
disloyalty. They sent for Straiton, and begged him to name
any day he pleased, however distant, and assured him that they
would willingly submit to his decision. It was only after his
The As. refusal to agree to their proposal, that they them-
prorojues sclvcs adjoumed the Assembly to the first Tuesday
in September. It -was then, and not till then, that
the King’s Commissioner declared that he did not consider
them to be a lawful Assembly, as the Moderator of the last
Assembly, who ought to have opened the meeting, was not
present. He followed this up by threatening the ministers with
the treatment of rebels if they did not instantly break up their
meeting. Having accomplished the object for which they had
come, they left the towm without making any resistance. Nine
other ministers, who arrived on the 4‘h and 5th, also w^ent
home, after signifying their approval of the conduct of their
brethren.^
Either during his last conversation with the ministers, or on
his w'ay h^me, Straiton remembered that the effect of what had
^ Fcrbes^ 3B8-396.
CH VIII,
308 THE POST-NATL
just passed under his eyes would be to bring to an end the
authority of the Commissioners of the last Assembly,
Sraiton * ti'i* ^ ^ ^ ^ ^
falsifies his if the nineteen ministers who had just left Aberdeen
thrA^-^ ^ constituted a real Assembly. Accordingly, fearing lest
»embiy. should be biought to account for not using more
active measures, he determined to invent a story which would
save him from disgrace. On his return to Edinburgh he
boldly declared that, on the day before the ministers met, he
had published a proclamation at the Market Cross at Aber-
deen, forbidding them to take part m the Assembly ^ To this
falsehood he afterwards added an equally fictitious account of
the forcible exclusion of himself from the room in which the
Assembly was held.
Unfortunately the men who occupied the principal positions
m the Council were not likely to give themselves much trouble
Heissu to sift the matter to the bottom. The Chancellor,
^ted by who HOW bore the title of Earl of Dunfermline, had
iine"anT* formerly, as Alexander Seton, been brought into
Baimenno. collisions With the clergy. Elphinstone, who
had now become Lord Balmerino and President of the Court
of Session as well as Secretary of State, had also old grudges
which he was not unwilling to pay off. They were both Catho-
lics, and as such they wished to do everything in their power to
depress the Presbyterian clergjc They therefore, as soon as
they received a letter from James urging them to take steps
against the ministers, instead of attempting to enlighten his
mind as to the deception which had been practised upon him,
threw themselves readily into the course of persecution which
he pointed out ; ® although Dunfermline had not long before
assured Forbes that he would be quite consent if the Assembly
should act in the precise way in which its proceedings had been
actually carried on, and, when he first saw an account of vhat
had passed, had approved of all that had been done.
Accordingly, on July 25, the Scottish Council issued a pro-
clamation prohibiting the Assembly from meeting in September.
* Farbes, 401.
® The King to Balmerino, July 19. Botfield, Ofigmal Lettets relating
to Euksiastiml AJfmrs (Bannatyne Club), i.
1005 MINISTERS IMPRISONED. 309
On the same day, Forbes was summoned before the Council,
and on his giving it as his opinion that the meeting at
Aberdeen was a lawful Assembly, he was committed
to custody in Edinburgh Castle, from whence, a
few days later, he was removed to Blackness, where
he was soon joined by John Welsh, one of those who had not
appeared at Aberdeen till after the conclusion of the proceed-
ings, but who was regarded by the Government with suspicion
as a man who was warmly attached to the Presbyterian dis-
ciplined Four others were at the same time sent down to
Blackness.
The King was determined to carry out his authority with a
high hand. He sent down a letter which all the Presbyteries
were directed to have read from the pulpit, in which he ex-
plicitly affirmed that the law was not intended to bind him to
observe under all circumstances the privileges by which any
body or estate in the kingdom was allowed to meet or to de-
liberate.^ This letter the Presbyteries refused to read, but it
was published by authority some months afterwards. He also
directed certain captious questions to be put to the imprisoned
ministers, which were intended to entangle them into an ad-
mission of the unlawfulness of the Aberdeen Assembly.
On their refusal to do this, they were summoned, with some
of the other ministe s who shared in their steadfastness, to
Their de- October 24 before the Council, in order
ciinatiire. AssemMy declared to be unlawful, and to
receive their own sentence for taking part in it.^ On the ap-
403.
2 Calderwood^ vi. 426. *‘As for an instance,” James argued, “every
burgh, royal hath their own times of public mercats allowed unto them by
the law, and the King’s privilege, but when the plague happened in any of
these towns did not he, by proclamation, d scharge the holding of the
mercat at that lime for fear of infection, and yet thereby did no prejudice
to their priviliges ? ”
* CalderwQod^ vi. 342. The portion of the Act of 1592 whicli bears
upon the question, runs as follows : — “ It shall be lawful to the Kirk and
ministers, every year at the least and oftener, pro re naid, as occasion and
necessity shall require, to hold and keep General Assemblies, providing
that the King’s Majesty, or his Commissioners with them to be appointed
Imprison"
ment of
Forbes and
the other
ministers.
310
THE POSTNATL
CH. VII I.
pointed day they were brought before the Council, and, after
in vain beseeching the Lords to refer their case to a General
Assembly, gave in a declinature, in which they refused to
acknowledge the jurisdiction of the Council in a question con-
cerning the rights of the Church, and referred their cause to
the next Assembly. James, when he heard of the course which
they had taken, directed that they should be brought to trial
The King ^ Charge of treason, under the Act of 1584,
directs that which pronouHced it to be treasonable to refuse to
hJ^ght to * submit to the jurisdiction of the Council In order
to insure a conviction, he sent down the Earl of
Dunbar to use his authority with all who might be inclined to
throw obstacles in the w^ay. The very choice of such a repre-
sentative was significant of the distance from the Scottish clergy
to which James had drifted, Dunbar, who, as Sir George Hume,
had accompanied James to England, 'was not a Presbyterian,
and it was questionable whether he was even a Protestant.
In the proceedings which followed, it is neither the abstruse
points of law which w^ere so diligently argued, nor even the fate
of the bold and fearless men whose lives and fortunes were at
stake, which principally attracts our attention. The real ques-
tion at issue was, whether the King’s Government was worthy
to occupy the position which it had taken up. If the Assem-
blies were not to be allowed to meet and to deliberate inde-
by His Highness, be present at ilk General Assembly before the dissolving
thereof, nominate and appoint time and place when and where the next
General Assembly shall be holden ; and in case neither His Majesty nor
His said Commissioners he present for the time in that town where the said
General Assembly is holden, then, and in that case, it shall be lesum to
the said General Assembly by themselves to nominate and appoint time
and place whe“e the next General Assembly of the Kirk shall be kept and
holden, as they have been in use to do these times by-past.” {Ads ofParl.
SfotL iii. 541.) It is evident that this Act is not without ambiguity. The
case when, as happened in Aberdeen, the Commissioner was in the town,
but refused to name a place and time, is not provided for. But the King
took up ground which was plainly untenable when he spoke of the proro-
gation of 1604 as being one which the ministers were bound to attend to,
as if it had been in accordance with the Act of 1592. The answer was, of
course, that it had not been declared by the King or Commissionei present
in an Assembly.— Foibes, Pecords, 452.
i 6 o 6 TRIAL OF THE SIX MINISIERS, 311
pendently of the authority of the State, what was to be substi-
tuted for them ? Was their claim of Divine right to be met by
calm* deliberation, and by unswerving justice, allowing liberty
of action wherever liberty was possible ; or by an exhibition of
petty intrigues resting upon the support of brute force ? In
other words, did James appear as the standard-bearer of law
and order against ecclesiastical anarchy, or was he clothing,
ignorantly or knowingly, his own arbitrary will in the forms of
jjolitical wisdom? In reality it was James himself who was on
his trial, not the prisoners at the bar.
The proceedings did not commence in a very promising
manner. It was necessary to remove the place of trial from
Edinburgh to Linlithgow, lest the Chancellor and his
associates should be unable to carry out their purpose
Linlithgow, the face of a population which sympathised strongly
with the ministers.^ On the morning of January 10, the six
who were confined at Blackness were hurried before the Coun-
cil at Linlithgow, and, after all efforts had been made in vain,
to induce them to withdraw their declinature, were ordered to
prepare for trial.
Criminal trials in England were not to be regarded at this
period as models of justice, but it is certain that the most sub-
servient judge who had ever sat upon the English Bench would
have been shocked at the manner in which preparations were
made for procuring a verdict against the ministers. Dunbar
began by tampering with the judges. He plainly told them
that if they did what he called their duty, they might expect to
enjoy the favour of the King ; but that, on the other hand, if
they failed in satisfying him, certain disgrace and punishment
would overtake them. He then addressed himself to packing
a jury, knowing well that unless extraordinary precautions were
taken he would fail in his object. At last he found fifteen men
amongst his own friends and relations who, as he hoped, would
serve his purpose. To make everything sure, he finally filled
the town with his followers, who would be ready to prevent any
attentpt to rescue the prisoners, and who might also serve the
Foibes, Records, 452,
312
THE POSTNATL
'-n, VIIL
purpose of overawing the Court, in case that, even constituted
as it was, it might by some chance show a spirit of indepen-
dence.^ As if this were not enough, it was arranged that the
Lords of the Council themselves, whose jurisdiction was im-
peached, should sit as assessors on the Court, to assist in judging
their own case.
The question of law was argued before the jury were ad-
mitted into court. The pleadings turned upon purely legal
decision of interpretation of words in certain
th^question Acts of Parliament, and upon the extent to which the
Act of 1584 was repealed by the Act of 1592. In
these discussions there is no interest whatever. They barely
touch upon the great questions at issue, and there can be no
doubt that the decision which was finally given against the
prisoners had been settled beforehand.
When this part of the trial had been brought to a conclu-
sion, the jury was admitted. As soon as they appeared, they
Thu jury addresscd by Sir Thomas Hamilton, the Lord
admitted, Advocate. He told them that it had been already
settled by the court that the declinature of members was
treasonable, and that all that was left to the jury w^as to find
whether the declinature had proceeded from the prisoners or
not He assured them that the document which he produced
was in the handwriting of the ministers ; there could therefore
he no difficulty in bringing in the verdict for which he asked.
He concluded by telling the jury that if they acquitted the
prisoners they must expect to be called in question for their
wilful error, by which their own lives and property would be
endangered.
In spite of the opposition of the prisoner’s counsel, the jury
were being sent out of court to consider the verdict, when
Forbes’s Forbes asked to be allowed to address them in the
speech. brethren. Having obtained permission
he went over the whole story of his supposed offence in words
which must have gone to the hearts of all who were not utterly
deaf to the voice of a true man speaking for his life. After
^ Sir T. Hamilton to the King, Dalrymple’s Mmorialsy i.
l6o6
TRIAL OF THE SIX MINISTERS,
3^3
protesting that Straiton’s story of the proclamation at the
Market Cross of Aberdeen was utterly false from beginning to
end, he showed that the direction of the Council’s letter by
which the ministers assembled at Aberdeen were required to
disperse, was enough to prove that that meeting was regarded
as a lawful Assembly by the very Council which had afterwards
called them to account. The only point in which the ministers
had been disobedient was in refusing to dissolve the Assembly
without appointing time or place for the next meeting. In
doing this he asserted that they had acted in accordance with
the laws of the kingdom as well as of the Church. The truth
was that they were brought into danger in order to support the
pretensions of the Commissioners of the Assembly, who were
labouring to introduce the Romish hierarchy in place of the
Church and Kingdom of Christ He reminded the jurors that
they had all of them subscribed to the confession of faith, and
had sworn to maintain the discipline of the Church, and he ad-
jured them to judge on that day as they would be judged w’hen
they were called to render an account to God of the oath which
they had sworn.
After some altercation between Forbes and the Lord Advo-
cate, Welsh addressed the jury. He spoke even more strongly
Welsh’s Forbes had done of the sole right of the Church
speech. judge of ecclesiastical questions. As soon as he
had finished, Hamilton told the jury that they ought not to be
moved by what they had just heard, and, after admonishing
them to perform their duty, he concluded by again threatening
them with punishment if they refused to find a verdict against
tlie prisoners. On the conclusion of this address, Forbes read
a passage out of the covenant in which King and people had
once united to protest their devotion to the Protestant faith ;
and then turning to Dunbar requested him to remind the King
of the punishment which had overtaken Saul for his breach of
the covenant which had been made with the Gibeonites, and to
warn him lest a similar judgment should befall him and his pos-
terity if he broke that covenant to which he had sworn. After
this, as the other prisoners declared it to be unnecessary to add
34
THE POST-NATI.
CH. Via.
anything to that which had been already said, the jury were
ordered to retire to consider their verdict.
Then was seen the effect w'hich earnest words can have
even upon men who have been brought together for the expresi
, . reason that they were unlikely to sympathise with
Ihejury , . i ,
consider _ the prisoucrs. Ihe jury, packed as it had been,
their verdict. doubt what the verdict was to be. One of
them begged that some one else might be substituted in his
place. Another asked for more information on the point at
issue. A third begged for delay. When all these requests had
been refused, they left the court. As soon as they had met
together, it was found that they were inclined to brave all
threats and to acquit the prisoners. The foreman of the jury,
Stewart of Craighall, being himself liable to the penalties of
the law, did not dare to oppose the will of the Council. He
accordingly, as soon as he found what was the opir.ion of
the majority, went back into the court, together with the
Lord Justice Clerk, who had been illegally present in the
jury room, and warned the judges what w'as likely to be the
result. The Councillors, in order to save their credit, made
one more attempt to persuade the prisoners to withdraw their
declinature. Having failed to produce any effect, they not
only tried what could be done b) again threatening the jury, but
they sent some of their number in to assure them that they
would do no harm to the prisoners by convicting them, as the
King had no intention of pushing matters to extremes, and
only wished to have the credit of a verdict on his side, in order
to proceed to bring about a pacification w'ith greater likelihood
of success, Influenced by these threats and promises, nine
Thepiison- o^t of the fifteen gave way, and the verdict of guilty
BouS was pronounced by the majority which, according to
gui:ty. Qf Scotland, w'as sufficient for the purpose.
The sentence was deferred till the King’s pleasure should be
known. ^
Such a victory was equivalent to a defeat. If the power of
the King was established too firmly by means of his coalition
‘ Forhes, EeforE, 455-496.
i 6 o 6 BANISHMENT OF THE SIX MINISTERS, 315
with the nobility to make it likely that any actual danger
Effect of apprehended, he had at least notified to
the trial. cared for honesty and truthfulness that it
was only by falsehood and trickery that he had succeeded in
establishing his claims. From henceforward it would be un-
necessary to go into any elaborate argument in favour of the
independence of the Church Courts. It would be sufficient to
])oint to the trial at Linlithgow, and to ask whether that was
the kind of justice which was so much better than that which
was dispensed in the Ecclesiastical Courts. So strong was the
general feeling on the subject, that when James wrote to the
Council pressing them to bring to a trial the remaining ministers
who had also signed the declinature, he received a reply in-
forming him that it was veiy^ improbable that such a course
would be attended with any good result, and recommending
him to drop the prosecution in order to avoid an acquittal.^
In the wMe course of James’s reign there is not one of his
actions which brings out so distinctly the very worst side of his
character. There can be no doubt that he really believed that
he was justified in what he was doing, and that he blinded him-
self to the radical injustice of his proceedings, and to the
scandalous means by w'hich his objects were effected. He
began by fancying that the ministers had acted illegally, and
then read every law or principle to which they appealed through
the coloured spectacles of his own feelings and interests. To any
knowledge of the true solution of the really difficult questions
which were involved in the dispute, he never had the slightest pre-
tensions, excepting in his own eyes and in those of his courtiers.
The six ministers remained for some months in prison.
At last, in October, they were condemned to perpetual banish-
BanEhment
of the six which was to carry them away in the darkness of the
minis eis. thg pcoplc, who crowdcd down to the bcacT
to see them go, heard them singing the twenty-third r.siilm,
'I'hey had passed through the valley of the shadow of death,
and had feared no evil In prison and in banishment He wlio
’ Botfidd, Original Letters, i, 360*^ ; and note to p, 363'**.
3i6 the POST-NATL ch. vm.
had been their shepherd suffered them not to want. They,
too, deserve the name of Pilgrim Fathers. Earthly hope they
had none j they went not forth to found an empire beyond the
seas ; they went forth to spend the last days of their weary pil-
grimage in foreign lands. But their work was not there : it
was in the hearts of their Scottish countrymen, to whom they had
at the peril of their lives borne testimony to the truth. They
had done their part to build up the Church and nation, which
neither James nor his Council would be able to enslave for ever.
, . Eight other ministers, who also refused to retract
ment of the thcit declmature, were exiled to various places on
other eight, islands of Scotland.^
The Linlithgow trial had brought clearly before the eyes of
the nation the real worth of the judicial institutions of the
country. It remained to be seen whether its legislative body
was any more fit to call the General Assembly to account
Whatever may have been the intentions of the King during the
first years of his reign in England, there can be no doubt that
he was now bent upon bringing the clergy under his feet by
restoring to the Bishops their jurisdiction. He accordingly
summoned a Parliament to meet at Perth in July, in
order to pass an Act for the restitution to the
Bishops of the property of their sees which had been
formally annexed to the Crown. It was notorious that many
of the nobility looked askance upon the new Bishops. But
their opposition was not of a nature to hold out against those
arguments which the Government was able to use. With the
conscientious hatred of Episcopacy which animated the Presby-
terians, they had nothing in common ; all that they felt was a
mere dislike of the rise of an order which might vie in wealth
and influence with themselves. With such men as these it was
easy to strike a bargain. Let them assent to the repeal of the
Act of Annexation, by which so much of the Church land had
been declared to be Crown property, and if the King were
allowed to use some of it to endow his new Bishops, he would
carve out of it no less than seventeen temporal lordships for
» Acts of the Privy Council, Botfield, Original I 368*.
i 6 o 6 THE ROYAL SUPREMACY IN SCOTLAND, 317
the nobility.^ Such arguments as these vp'ere unanswerable
The Parliament speedily passed the Acts which gave per^
mission for the change, and added another, declaring that the
King’s authority was supreme ‘ over all estates, persons, and
causes whatsoever.’ ^
The position occupied by James’s Bishops was unique in
the history of Episcopacy. There have been instances in which
Position of laymen have borne the title of Bishop, and there
Uio Bishops, instances in which Bishops have passed
gradually from the exercise of purely spiritual functions to the
enjoyment of temporal jurisdiction ; but nowhere, excepting in
Scotland, has a class of ministers existed who were clothed in
all the outward pomp and importance of temporal lordships,
whilst they were without any ecclesiastical authority what-
ever. Such a state of things was too ridiculous to continue
long. Any attempt to rule the Church by means of the sub-
servient courts of law, and the half-careless, half-corrupt
Parliaments, was certain in the long run to prove a failure.
Everything tended to make James more determined to give
real authority to his Bishops, or, in other words, to himself.
But if this was to be accomplished, James shrank from
carrying out his purpose by a simple act of authority. To do
James de- justice, when a scheme of this kind came into
terminesto his head, he always contrived to persuade himself
give them . • -i i r
ecclesiastical that it was impossible for anyone to oppose it ex-
authonty. factious or interested motives. Just as
to the end of his life he continued to believe that the English
House of Commons misrepresented the loyal feelings of the'
nation, he now believed that the dislike of Bishops was con-
fined to a few turbulent resisters of all authority. And such
was his opinion of the justice of his cause and of the force
of his own arguments, that he flattered himself with the
notion that even those who had hitherto resisted his wishes
must give way if he could once be brought face to face with
them.
1 Melville's Diary ^ 640. Council to James*, July 4, i6o6, Milros Paprs^
(Abbotsford Club), 15,
^ Acts af Pari. Scat!, iv. 2S0.
3i3 the POST-NATL ch. vin
In a proclamation issued in the preceding autumn,^ the
King had declared that he intended to make no alteration in
1605. government of the Church, excepting with the
Sept. 26. advice of those whom he called the wisest and best
of the clergy \ and he accordingly directed that a General
1606. Assembly should be held at Dundee in July. In
^uTfothe February he sent round five questions to all the
Synods. Synods, intended to induce them to give their assent
to an acknowledgment of the King’s authority in calling the
Assemblies, and to promise to support the Commissioners,
leaving untouched the position of the Bishops.^ Failing to ob*
tain any satisfactory answer, he wrote to eight of the principal
ministers still remaining at liberty, in the number of whom both
Andrew Melville and his nephew James were included, direct-
ing them to present themselves in London on September 15, in
order to discuss the question at issue between the ministers and
the Crown. In spite of their disinclination to enter upon a dis-
cussion which they knew to be useless, they consented to comply
with the request. Their first conference with the King was
held on September 22, in the presence of several members of
the Scottish Council, and of some of the Bishops and other
ministers who were favourable to the claims of the King.
They found that they w^ere required, as a pre-
Conference ^
at Hampton liminary Step, to give an opinion on the lawfulness
Court. Assembly at Aberdeen. As anyone but
James would have foreseen, it was to no purpose that argu-
ments were ac dressed to them to prove the correctness of
the King’s view of the case, or that they were called upon
to listen, day after day, to polemical sermons from the most
distinguished preachers of the Church of England. They
refused to part with their conviction on this point, or to allow
that there was any possible way of pacifying the Church of
Scotland, excepting by the convocation of a free General
Assembly. Upon discovering that his logic had been ex-
pended upon them in vain, James reported to the disgraceful
> Caldenvood, vi. 338.
^ Ibid,^ vi. 391-396. The second of the two copies given is probably
the authentic one. Compare the notices of it at pp. 477, 571.
l 6 o 6 ANDREW MELVILLE S BANISHMENT. 319
expedient of ordering the men who had come up to England
on the faith of his invitation, to be committed to custody. It
was not long before a circumstance occurred which gave him
an excuse for severer measures. An epigram was put into his
Melville’s hands which had been written by Andrew Melville,
verses. Seemed to him the Popish ceremonies prac-
tised in the King’s Chapel at one of the services which he had
been compelled to attend. ^ The verses had not been put in
circulation, nor was it intended that they should be ; but
James, glad of an opportunity of revenging himself upon the
man whom he detested, ordered him to be brought
Hisim- before the Privy Council. When there, Melville,
pribonment taunting words of the members of this
unsympathising tribunal, with a not unnatural ebullition of
impatience, turned fiercely upon Bancroft who had charged
him with something very like treason, and reminding him of
all his real and supposed faults, ended his invective by tel-
ling him, as he shook one of his lawn sleeves, that these were
Romish rags, and part of the mark of the beast. Such a scene
had never before occurred in the decorous Council Chamber
at Whitehall, and the Lords were not likely to leave it un-
noticed. He was committed by them to the custody of the
Dean of St. Paul’s, from whence he was, after another ex-
amination, transferred to the Tower. There he remained a
and banish- prisoner for four years, till he was allowed to leave
England at the request of the Duke of Bouillon, in
wLose University at Sedan he passed the remaining years of
^ ^ t Professor of Divinity, His nephew, whose
of the other sole ctime was his refusal to acknowledge the King’s
mmiisters. ecclcsiastical supremacy, was sent into confinement
at Newcastle. The six other ministers were relegated to dif-
ferent parts of Scotland.
* “ Cur stant clausi Anglis libri duo regia in aral,
Lumina ca;ca duo, pollubra sicca duo ?
Num sensum cultumque Dei tenet Anglia clausum
Lumine cceca suo, sorde sepulta sud?
Romano an ritu dura regalem instruit aram,
Purpuream pingit religiosa lupani ? " ^
320
THE EOST-NATL
CH VI 11.
The cycle of injustice vas now complete. In the course of
one short year the judicature, the Parliament, and the King
had proved to demonstration that they were not in a position to
demand of the Church the surrender of her independence. In
theory, the view taken by James in protesting against the claim
of the clergy to exclusive privileges approached more nearly to
those which are very generally accepted in our own day, than
do those which were put forward by Melville and Forbes. But
that which is yielded to the solemn voice of the law may well
be refused to the wilfulness of arbitrary power.
As yet, James did not venture upon proposing to introduce
a copy of the English Episcopacy into Scotland ; but he deter-
mined to make an effort to bring the Bishops whom
of ConstLt he had nominated into some connection with the
Moderators. machinery of the Church. There can be no
doubt that, in detaining the eight ministers m England, he had
been as much influenced by the hope of depriving the Scotch
clergy of their support, as by the annoyance which he felt at
their pertinacious resistance. But even at a time when no less
than twenty-two of the leading ministers had been driven away
from the scenes of their labours, he did not venture to summon
a freely chosen Assembly, with the intention of asking it to sur-
render into the hands of the Bishops the least fraction of the
powers which had hitherto been possessed by the Presbyteries
and Assemblies of the Church. He had, in consequence, again
prorogued the Assembly, which was to have met in the course
of the summer.
Still, however, some means must be taken to cloak the
usurpation which he meditated. He issued summonses to the
various Presbyteries, calling upon them to send to
gowCon." certain ministers who were nominated by
of the
iress the progress of P
upon the means which
tion of the peace of the Church. , this
assembly of nominees met, acc(
d though the members at
l6o6
CONSTANT MODERATORS.
321
pendence, they were in the end, by the skilful management of
the Earl of Dunbar, brought to agree to all that was proposed
to them. The chief concession obtained was, that in order
that there might be an ofScial always ready to counteract the
designs of the Catholics, a ‘ Constant Moderator,’ who might
be entrusted with this permanent duty, should be substituted
in all the Presbyteries for the Moderators who had hitherto
been elected at each meeting. In the same way the Synods, or
Provincial Assemblies, were also to be provided with permanent
Moderators. Whenever a vacancy occurred, the Moderators
of the Presbyteries were to be chosen by the Synod to which
the Presbytery belonged. The Synod was itself to be presided
over by any Bishop who might be acting as Moderator of any
of the Presbyteries within its bounds, and it was only to be
allowed to elect its own Moderator in cases where no Bishop
was thus to be obtained. The Moderators, however, were to
be liable to censure, and even to deprivation, in the Church
courts. This arrangement, such as it was, was not to come
into action at once. The first list of Moderators of all the
Presbyteries in Scotland was drawn up by the Linlithgow
Convention, and in it were to be found the names of all the
Bishops for the Presbyteries in which they resided.^
This Act left, indeed, the whole machinery of Presby-
terianism in full action. But it accustomed the clergy to see
the nominees of the Crown presiding in their courts, and ir^ight
easily lead the way to fresh encroachments. It was hardly
likely, however, that the decisions of this irregular Convention
would be universally accepted as equal in authority to those of
a free Assembly. It was soon found that resistance was to be
expected, and the determination to resist was strengthened
by a report which was generally circulated, to the effect that the
Act of the Convention had been surreptitiously altered by the
King, a report which gained increased credence from the cir-
cumstance that some of the ministers had in vain attempted to
gain a sight of the original document
James, however, determined to carry his scheme into effect
VOL. L
* Calderwaod^ ri. 6oi,
332
THE POST^NATL
CH. vill.
in ^ite of afl opposition. On January 17, 1607, an order was
issued to all the Presbyteries, admonishing them to
The^Sdera accept the Moderators on pain of being declared
tois forced rebellion. The same threat was held over
Church. Qf those Moderators who might be unwill-
ing to accept the post to which they had been appointed. Some
gave way before superior force, but others refused to obey the
command. In the Synods the resistance was still stronger, as
It was believed that the order to admit the Bishops as Mode-
rators over these large assemblies had been improperly added
to the Acts of t^ Convention. One Synod only, that of Angus,
submitted at once to the change. It was only after a prolonged
resistance that the others gave way to commands which they
knew themselves to be unable to resist.
James had thus secured most of the objects at which he
aimed. Driven, by the pertinacity of the ministers who had
Success of Aberdeen, to abandon his scheme of leaving
the King. Scottish Church without any organization at all,
he had fallen back on his older plan of giving it an organiza-
tion which would to a great extent subject it to his own con-
trol. Presbyteries and Synods and General Assemblies were
to meet as in the olden days, but they would meet under the
presidence of Moderators appointed by himself, and in the
Synods that Moderator would almost always be a person who
bore the name of Bishop. It was not likely that James would
stop here, and he had little more to do to give to the Bishops
the presidency by right. Yet even what he had done had been
enough to put an end to that collision between the ecclesias-
tical and the civil powers which had threatened danger to the
State,
Unhappily the means to which James owed his victory
brought discredit upon the cause in which he was engaged,
causes of There had been no little chicanery in his interpreta-
lus success. qj, evasioH of the law, and the fact that his main
supporters, Dunfermline and Balmerino, were Catholics, un-
doubtedly injured him in the estimation of the Protestants of
Scotland. Yet, after every admission is made, it is undeniable
that, ever since^the tumult in Edinburgh in 1596, there had
i6o7
CAUSES OF JAMES’S SUCCESS.
323
been a considerable want of animation on the part of those
classes on whom the Presbyterian clergy depended for suj)port.
What opposition there had been, came almost entirely from the
ministers themselves. Not only were the great nobles, with one
or two exceptions, banded together against them as one man,
but the lesser gentry, and even the boroughs, were lukewarm m
their cause.
The explanation of this change of feeling is not very difficult
to find. In the first place the cause of Presbyterianism was no
longer connected with resistance to foreign interference, witli
regard to which Scotchmen have at all times been so sensitive.
In the early part of James’s reign the ministers could appeal
to the nation against the intrigues of France. At a later
period, it was the dread of a Spanish invasion which gave point
to their invectives against the northern earls. But with Huntly’s
defeat, in 1595, all this was at an end. If for a short time it
was still supposed that Huntly and Errol were likely to renew
their invitations to the Spanish Court, all suspicions of such
behaviour on their part quickly died away, and the question
between the King and the clergy could be treated as a mere
matter of internal policy with which national prejudices had
nothing whatever to do.
Nor were the King’s innovations of such a nature as to pro-
voke opposition from the ordinary members of Scottish congre-
gations. The same sermons were likely to be preached by
the same men, whether the General Assembly or the King got
the upper hand. The proceedings of the Kirk-sessions were
carried on exactly as before. There was, above all, nothing
which addressed the eye in the changes which had been brought
about Men who would have been horror-struck at such
alterations as those which were afterwards carried out in Eng-
land by the authority of Laud, looked on with indiifference as
long as they saw the old familiar services conducted as they
had been accustomed to see them conducted in their boyhood.
To superficial observers — ^and in no age or country is their
number a limited one — the question at issue was merely one of
jurisdiction, by which the integrity of the Gospel was not in any
way affected.
THE POST-NATI.
CH. vin.
32^
The real evil lay rather in that which might be done, than
in that which had actually taken place. Neither the General
Assembly nor the Parliament could claim to be a fair represen-
tation of the Scottish nation, because that nation was too deeply
cleft asunder to have any real representation at all. Under
such circumstances, the King was the sole representative of
unity. As long as he acted as a reconciler he might go on his
path unmolested, but if he, or his successor, should at any time
cease to be content with keeping the peace, and should proceed
to try the temper of the people by the introduction of changes in
their mode of worship, he might excite an opposition which he
would find it hard to control. If a national feeling were aroused
against him, it would find an outlet either in the Assembly or 111
Parliament— perhaps in both combined.
It is not unlikely that these proceedings in Scotland may
have had some effect upon the minds of the members of the
English House of Commons, when they were called
Nov. 18. on to take the first steps in drawing closer the bonds
thel:n|hsh union with a country in which the forms of justice
Parliament, gQ abused as they had been in the condemna-
tion of Porbes and his brother ministers. The session which
opened on November 18, 1606, was understood to be devoted
to the consideration of the proposals which had been made by
the Commissioners appointed from both countries. Those
proposals had been framed with a due regard for the
susceptibilities of the two nations. On two of them
but little difference of opinion was likely to arise.
It could hardly be doubted that it was expedient
to repeal those laws by which either country had taken pre-
cautions against hostile attacks from the other, or that some
arrangement ought to be made for the mutual extradition of
criminals.
The other two points were far more likely to give rise to
opposition. The most essential measures by which the pros-
perity of the two kingdoms could be insured, were the estab-
lishment of freedom of commercial intercourse between them,
and the naturalisation in each of them of the natives of the
Other.
The Report
of the Com-
missioners
for the
Union.
i6o6 FREE TRADE AND NATURALISATION 325
After mature deliberation, the Commissioners had deter-
mined to recommend that certain productions of each country
Commeidai should not be allowed to be exported to the other,
union. English were afraid of a rise in the price of
cloth, if their sheep-farmers were permitted to send their wool
to be manufactured in Scotland ; and the Scotch were equally-
alarmed at the prospect of high prices for meat, if their cattle
could be driven across the Tweed to a more profitable market
than Edinburgh or Perth could offer. With these and t\\o or
three other exceptions, the whole commerce of the two coun-
tries was to be placed on an equal footing. The Scotchman was
to be allowed to sell his goods in London as freely as he could
in Edinburgh ; and he was to be permitted to take part in those
commercial enterprises upon which so much of the prosperity
of England was already founded, A similar liberty was to be
granted to Englishmen in Scotland ; though, for the present, at
least, its value would be merely nominal.
A commercial union of this description made it necessary
to take into consideration the question of naturalisation. Un-
Naturaiisa- fortunately, it was impossible to avoid touching upon
tion. political difficulties. The best course would have
been to have naturalised entirely, in each kingdom, all persons
born in the other, but to have incapacitated them, at least for
a certain time, from holding any high official position. There
would have been less difficulty in drawing up a measure of this
kind, as, of the six Scotchmen who had been sworn into the
English Privy Council soon after the accession of James, all
except one had been already naturalised by Act of Parliament,^
and might fairly have been regarded as exceptions from the rule
which was to be proposed.
The question was, however, complicated by a distinction
drawn by the legal authorities who were consulted ^ by the
1 Sir James Elpbinstone (afterwards Lord Balmerino), the Duke of
Lennox, thf* Earl of Mar, Sir George Hume (afterwards Earl of Dunbar),
and Lord Kinloss, were naturalised in the first session of the reign.
® Opinions of the law officers of the Crown, Nov. 16, 1604, S. P. Dom.
X. 75. In this opinion Popham, Fleming, and Coke concurred.
THE POST-NATL
CH. VI !I.
Commissioners. They declared that by the common law of
England, the Post-nati (as those who were born in Scotland
after the accession of James were technically called) were as
iittle to be regarded as aliens as if they had been born in Exeter
or York. They were born within the King’s allegiance, and they
must be regarded as his subjects as far as his dominions ex-
tended. The Ante-nati, or those born before the King’s acces-
sion, on the other hand, did not obtain this privilege. The
Commissioners, therefore, proposed a declaratory Act pro-
nouncing the Post-nati, in either kingdom, to be possessed of
all the privileges of natives of the other. They also advised
that the same rights should be communicated to the Ante-nati
by statute. The question of the reservation of the high offices
of state was beset with still greater difficulties. If the Commis-
sioners had been left to themselves, they would probably ha\/e
recommended that the Ante-nati should be incapacitated from
holding these dignities, whilst the Post-nati should be entitled
to accept them. This would, at all events, have thrown back
the difficulty for at least twenty years. By that time the chief
reasons for apprehending evil consequences from the measure
would have ceased to exist. After twenty years of close com-
mercial intercourse, the two peoples would have become assimi-
lated to one another ; the generation which had been growing
up in Scotland since 1603 would be strangers to James, and
would be still greater strangers to his successor. By that time
the favourites of the Sovereign would be Englishmen. If it
would be still possible for the King to swamp the House of
Lords and the public offices with Scotchmen, who might be
supposed to feel no especial regard for the English Constitu-
tion, it would also be possible for him to find Englishmen who
would be equally ready to support him in his claims. In fact,
the event proved that the danger which threatened the Consti-
tution did not arise from the possible extension of the area
from which officials could be selected, but from the want of
control which Parliament was able to exercise over the officials
after their selection by the King. When Charles I. wished to
find a Strafford or a Laud, it was not necessary for him to go
in search of him beyond the Tweed.'
i6o6 WEjRE the ANTE^NATI TO HOLD OFFICES ?
It is possible that if the Commissioners had followed their
own judgment they might have seen their recommendations pass
into law, in spite of the prejudices by which they were certain to
be assailed in the House of Commons. But, unfortunately, in
order to carry out this proposal, it was necessary to interfere with
one of the prerogatives of the Crown \ and when James heard
that his prerogative was to be touched, he was sure to take alarm,
and to do battle for a shadow even more strenuously than he was
ready to contend for the substance. In this case the difficulty
lay in the acknowledged right of the Crown to issue letters of
denization to aliens, by which all the rights of naturalisation
might be conferred, excepting that of inheriting landed property
in England. Although, however, a denizen might not inherit
land, he was capable of holding it by grant or purchase, and of
transmitting it to his descendants. He was also capable of
holding all offices under the Crown. James protested, no doubt
with perfect sincerity at the time, that he had no desire ‘ to confer
any office of the Crown, any office of judicature, place, voice, or
office in Parliament, of either kingdom, upon the subjects of
the other born before the decease of Elizabeth.’ ^ Under these
circumstances, a sensible man would have gladly allowed a clause
to be inserted, depriving him of the power of granting such offices
by letters of denization to the Ante-nati. Even then he would
still have been able to enrich any new Scottish favourites by gifts
of money, and to those who were already naturalised he might
assign as much more land as he pleased. Unluckily, James
considered that he would be disgraced by such an attack upon
his prerogative. The plan which he adopted had, at least,
the merit of ingenuity : he agreed to the proposal of the Com-
missioners to refuse to the Ante-nati the right of holding offices,
but he also required that the future Act of naturalisation
should contain a divStinct recognition of his right to issue letters
of denization, and thus to break through those very restrictions
which the House was to be asked to impose ; though at the
same time he gave a promise that he would make no use of this
right of which he was so eager to obtain the acknowledgment.
^ C. y. i. 323. The King to Cranborae, Nov, 24, 1604, S. 1\ Dom^
X. 40. i.
THE POST-NATL
CH. vin.
It is strange that he did not foresee that the House of Commons
would regard such a proposal as this with indignation, and
would look upon it as an attempt to delude them with specious
words.
James, unfortunately, was incapable of bridling his tongue,
When he addressed the Houses on the first day of the session,
The King's ^e entered upon a long attack upon the conduct of
speech. those who had prepared the Petition of Grievances at
the end of the last session, even though he acknowledged that he
had found some of the requests made to be worthy of attention
In treating of the Union he was no less injudicious. On this
question he was far in advance of the average English opinion,
He foresaw the benefits which would accrue to both nations
from a complete amalgamation, and he was not unnaturally
impatient of the conservative timidity of the Commons, which
dreaded each step into the unknown. Yet he would have been
far more likely to secure his immediate object if he had been
less conspicuously open, and had avoided showing to the
world his eagerness for a far closer amalgamation than that to
which the assent of Parliament was now invited. “ Therefore,
now,^’ he said, after recounting the benefits to be expected,
“ let that which hath been sought so much, and so long, and
so often, by blood, and by fire, and by the sword, now it is
brought and wrought by the hand of God, be embraced and
received by a hallelujah ; and let it be as Wales was, and as all
the Heptarchy was, united to England, as the principal ; and
let all at last be compounded and united into one kingdom.
And since the crown, the sceptre, and justice, and law, and all
is resident and reposed here, there can be no fear to this nation,
but that ihey shall ever continue continual friends ; and shall
ever ackr owledge one Church and one king, and be joined in
a perpetual marriage, for the peace and prosperity of both
nations, and for the honour of their King.”
We can appreciate the prescience of such words now.
When they were uttered, they must have raised strange ques-
tionings in the minds of the hearers. What, they may well
have asked, was this one law and one Church in which they
were invited to participate ? Were they not asked to abandon
f6o6
OPPOSITION OF THE MERCHANTS.
329
some of the rights of Englishmen, and, what was quite as much
to the point, to sacrifice some of the interests of Englishmen ?
So preoccupied were the Commons with the question of the
Union, that the King’s answer to their grievances was allowed
Nov. 19. to pass unchallenged. On the 21st the Report
The answer Qf Commissioners of the Union was read. At
to the '
grievances, once a stoim of Opposition arose amongst the
English merchants agamst the proposal to set free the com-
merce of the two countries. The merchants declared that they
would certainly be ruined by the competition with which they
Debates on threatened. Scotchmen would come in and
commercial out of England j they would always be in the way
intercourse, Wanted to drive a bargain ; but as soon
as the time came round when taxes and subsidies were to be
demanded, they would slip over the border, leaving the burden
upon the shoulders of their English rivals. There were quite
enough Englishmen engaged in the trading companies, and it
was most undesirable that Scotchmen should rob them of their
livelihood. To these and similar complaints the Scottish mer-
chants had no difficulty in replying. They received the support
of Salisbury, who, if he did not regard the Union with any
great enthusiasm, had, at all events, too much sense to be
led away by the fallacies by which it was assailed.^
The feeling of the merchants found expression in the House
of Commons. That House agreed, as a matter of course, to
abolish the hostile laws ; but though they were ready enough
to protest against the monopoly of the trading companies, they
looked with prejudiced eyes upon the principle of commercial
freedom when it seemed to tell against themselves. On De-
cember 17, a scene occurred at a conference with the Lords
which augured ill for the success of the measure. The
staid Lord Chancellor scolded the merchants for the pe-
tition which they had drawn up against the Union. Fuller,
in his rash, headlong way, said that the Scotch were pedlers
rather than merchants. For this speech he was taken to task
by the Lords, who told the Commons that, if they did not
^ Objections of the Merchants of London, with Answers by Salisbury
and the Scottish Merchants, S. P. Dorn, xxiv. 3, 4, 5.
330
7 HE POST-NATL
CH. vm.
yield with a good grace, the King would tahe the matter in
hand, and would carry out the Union by his own authority.
Under these circumstances the House gave way, so far as to
accept certain starting-points which might serve for the heads
of a future Bill, though it refused to give to them its formal ad-
hesion.^ Upon this Parliament was adjourned to February lo.
A few days after the reassembling of the House, Sir Chris-
topher Pigott, who had been chosen to succeed to the vacancy
Fet. 13. in the representation of Buckinghamshire daused by
phe?pJott’s resignation of Sir Francis Goodwin, poured forth
speech. a torrent of abuse against the whole Scottish nation.
He said that they were beggars, rebels, and traitors. There
had not been a single King of Scotland who had not been
murdered by his subjects. It was as reasonable to unite Scot-
land and England as it would be to place a prisoner at the bar
upon an equal footing with a judge upon the bench.® No
expression of displeasure was heard, and though this silence is
attributed in the journals to the astonishment of his hearers
there can be little doubt that they secretly sympathised with
the speaker. Their temper cannot have been improved by the
knowledge that the King had determined to make use of 44,000/.
out of the subsidies which they had so recently granted, in
paying the debts of three of his favourites. The fact tlmt two
of these, Lord Hay ^ and Lord Haddington, were Scotchmen,
must have increased the disgust with which the prodigality of
the King was regarded in the House of Commons.^
The next day James heard what had passed. He im-
mediately sent for Salisbury, and after rating him for not giving
him earlier information, and for having allowed Pigott to go so
long unpunished, he summoned the Council, and commanded
• Report in, C. y. i. $32. Carleton to Chamberlain, Dec, 18, 1606,
S. P. Dorn. xxiv. 23.
2 C. y i, 333. Boderie to Puhianx, 1607, Amhssadis, ii.
87.
2 He had been created a baron without the right of sitting in Parlia-
ment, no doubt in order not to prejudice Parliament against the King’s
proposals.
* Chaml>erlain to Carleton, Feb. 6, 1607, S, P. Pom. xxvi. 4$.
1007 THE QUESTION OF NATURALISATION, 331
them to take immediate steps for bringing the delinquent to
justice.
The Commons, on hearing what had taken place in the
Council, determined to deal with the matter themselves. They
excused themselves for taking no steps at the time on the plea
that it was not well to answer a fool according to his folly.
After some debate, they resolved that Pigott, being a member
of the House, was not liable to be called in question elsewhere.
They then ordered that he should be expelled the House and
committed to the Tower. In less than a fortnight, he was re-
leased upon the plea of ill-health.
Meanwhile, the House had commenced the discussion of
the important question of naturalisation. On P'ebruary 14, the
Debates on debate was Opened by Fuller. He compared Eng-
^ pasture, which was threatened with an
Fuller’s irruption of a herd of famished cattle. He proceeded
speech. ^ (Responding picture of the state of the
country. There was not sufficient preferment for the numbeis
p ^ of scholars who crowded to the Universities. The
^ inhabitants of London were already far too numerous.
The existing trade did not suffice for the support of the mer-
chants who attempted to live by it. If this was a true account
of the evils under which the country w'as labouring, how could
room be found for the impending invasion from the North ?
He then asked, in language which never failed in meeting with
a response in the House of Commons, whether this docrine of
the naturalisation of the rising generation of Scots by the mere
fact of their being born under the dominion of the King were
really according to law. This theory made matters of the
greatest importance depend not upon the law, but upon the
person of the Sovereign. The consequences of such a doctrine
would be fatal. If Philip and Mary had left a son, that son
would have inherited the dominions of both his parents, and
would have naturalised the Spaniards and the Sicilians in
England, without any reference to Parliament What might
have happened fifty years before, might always happen at any
moment under similar circumstances.*
‘ C. 7. i. 334.
333
THE PQST-NATI.
CH. VIU.
The debate was resumed on the 17th. Towards the dose
of the sitting, Bacon rose to answer the objections which had
^ been made. He was, perhaps, the only man in
BacoV England besides the King who was really enthusiastic
replies. support of the Union. He had meditated on it
long and deeply. He had occupied a prominent position in the
debates upon the subject in 1604, He had written more than
one paper * in which he laid his views before the King. He
had taken a leading part as one of the Commissioners by whom
the scheme which was now before the House had been pro-
duced. To the part which he then took he always looked back
with satisfaction. Only once in the Essays which form one of
his titles to fame, did he recur to events in which he had him-
self been engaged, and that single reference was to the Com-
mission of the Union.® He would himself, perhaps, have been
willing to go even further than his fellow-commissioners had
thought proper to go. Like James, he looked forward hope-
fully to the day when one Parliament should meet on behalf
of both countries, and when one law should govern the two
nations ; and he hoped that that law might be made consonant
with the truest dictates of justice. He knew, indeed, that there
was little prospect of such a result in his own day, but he was
desirous that a beginning at least should be made.
These views he still held, but he had learnt that they were
far beyond anything which he could expect to accomplish. He
contented himself,^ in reply to Fuller, with advocating the
measure before the House. He adjured his hearers to raise
their minds above all private considerations and petty prejudices,
nd to look upon the proposed change with the eyes of statesmen.
It had been said that England would be inundated with new
comers, and that there would not be sufficient provision for the
children of the soil. He answered that no such incursion was
to be expected. Men were not to be moved as easily as cattle.
If a stranger brought with him no means of his own, and had
’ ‘ A Brief Discourse of the happy Union,’ &c. * Certain Articles or
Considerations touching the Union.’ Letters and Life^ iii, 90, 218.
2 Essay on Counsel
* Bacon’s speech. Letters ami Life^ iii. 307.
i6o7 bacon answers FULLER. 351
no way of supporting himself in the country to which he came,
he would starve. But even if this were not the case, he denied
that England was fully peopled. The country could with ease
support a larger population than it had ever yet known. Fens,
commons, and wastes were crying out for the hand of the
cultivator. If they were too little, the sea was open. Commerce
would give support to thousands. Ireland was waiting for
colonists to till it, and the solitude of Virginia was crying aloud
for inhabitants.^ To the objection that it was unfair to unite
poor Scotland to rich England, he replied that it was well
that the difference consisted ‘but in the external goods of
fortune ; for, indeed, it must be confessed that for, the goods of
the mind and the body they are ’ our other ‘ selves ; for to do
them but right,’ it was well known ‘ that in their capacities and
understandings they are a people ingenious; in labour, in-
dustrious ; in courage, valiant ; in body, hard, active, and
comely.’ The advantages of a union with such a people were
not to be measured by the amount of money they might have
in their pockets. With respect to the legal part of the question,
he expressed himself satisfied that the Post-nati were already
naturalised ; but he thought it advisable that this should be
declared by statute. He concluded by pointing out the dangers
which might ensue if the present proposals were rejected.
Quarrels might break out, and estrangement, and even separa-
tion might follow. If, on the other hand, the House would
put all prejudices aside, they would make the United Kingdom
to be the greatest monarchy which the world had ever seen.
Admirable as this argument was, and conclusively as it met
all the objections which had been raised by the prejudices of
the time, it is plain that there was one part of Fuller’s
paSover speech which it left wholly unanswered. If England
y Bacon. Scotland were called upon to unite because all
persons born after the King’s accession were born within the
King’s allegiance, why might not Spain and England be called
upon to unite under similar circumstances? Bacon and the
judges might repeat as often as they pleased that the naturalisa-
’ The allusion to Virginia is not in the printed speech, but is to hfi
found in the Journals.
334
THE POST^NJTI.
CH. vm.
tion of the Post-nati was in accordance with the law ; the
common-sense of the House of Commons told them that it
ought not to be so. Since the precedents had occurred, upon
which the judges rested their opinion, circumstances had
changed. In the thirteenth and fourteenth centuries the ties
of allegiance had been much stronger, and the ties of nationality
much weaker, than they afterguards became. If, however, the
Commons had been ready to make their acceptance of the
Union contingent upon the King’s assent to an Act declaring
that, in all future cases, naturalisation should not follow mere
allegiance, they would probably have found no difficulty with
James. But they were alarmed lest the concession of English
privileges to the Post-nati should be unaccompanied by the
subjection of the Post-nati to English law. In the conference
¥eb. 25. which ensued,^ Sir Edwin Sandys argued the question
wSuhe “ Commons’ point of view. He boldly de-
Lords. dared that times were changed, and that the pre-
cedents were of no avail under the altered circumstances, and
he ended by suggesting that it w'ould be better to give merely
limited privileges to the Post-nati.^ The lawyers of the Lower
House were less successful. Instead of assailing the position in
the only way in which it was possible to succeed, they attempted
to support their conclusion upon technical grounds. The
judges being consulted, gave their opinions, with one exception,
against the theory of the House of Commons, Coke especially
bringing his immense stores of learning to bear upon the case.
Eor once in his life he and Bacon were agreed. But it
need hardly be said, that if they came to the same conclusion.
Opinion of they did not arrive at it by the same road. Bacon,
fovour^ofthe 1^ his cnthusiasm for the cause in which he was
Son iS' engaged, had overlooked the evils which might here-
Si?Smmon cnsue from the admission of those technical
law. grounds upon which part of his argument was based,
’ Stafe T nals^ ii. 562 C, J, i. 345. Note of the speeches of Popham
and Coke, Feb. 26, S. P. Dorn. xxvi. 64 j calendared as Coke’s speech
alone, and dated Feb. 25.
® This appears more clearly from the report in the Journals than from
that in the Slate Trials.
i6o7
COKES OPINION
335
but which can hardly be supposed to have had any part in in-
fluencing his judgment. To Coke those technical grounds
w^eie everything. For the broader aspects of the case he cared
nothings but his re^'erence for the English common law
amounted to a passion. He considered the system of ^hich
he was the acknowledged master to be the purest emanation
of perfect wisdom. V^Tatever opposed the common law was
treated by him with contemptuous arrogance. For the sake of“
the common law he had bullied Jesuits in his youth ; for the
sake of the same common law he was in his old age to stand
forward to oppose his Sovereign. On this occasion there could
be no doubt which side of the question would receive his
support. English law had grown up under two distinct in-
fluences. The influence of the judges had drawn it in one
direction, the influence of Parliament had drawn it in another.
The natural tendency of the judges was to put forward on every
occasion the authority of the Sovereign ; the natural tendency
of Parliament was to give expression to the rights of the nation.
It happened that Parliament had never had occasion to legislate
directly upon the subject, and Coke had no difficulty in quoting
precedent after precedent to show that the decisions of the
courts were all in favour of his doctrine of naturalisation by
allegiance. The appeal of Sandys to a reasonable construction
of the law in consequeice of the altered condition of the
country, he treated with cool contempt He was there to
declare what the common law declared, and of any other
argument he knew nothing.
The Commons stood firm : they knew that whatever might
be the value of Coke’s arguments, they were in the right in
placing the important question before them on a
mons refuse wider basis than that of the technical law. Whilst
to give way. doubted what course to take, they were informed
that the Lords had consented to hear any practical suggestion
which the Commons might agree to make.^
* A paper in the S. P. Dorn. xxvi. 69, concerning Scotchmen created
Peers in England, is endorsed by Salisbury, All other laws make them
aliens, pr^edents contrary, reason, nature." On this point the Lords must
have been wnth the Commens almost to a man.
33 ^
THE POST-NATl
CH. VIII.
ilccordingly, on March 14, the Commons made a proj)osaI
of their own.^ They were ready to do away with the distinction
„ , between the Ante-nati and the Post-nati, and were
At the willing to naturalise by statute all the King’s Scottish
qu^tt they subjects. They would thus get rid of the difficulty
Sure oa attending the exercise of the prerogative. A clause
the subject, introduced, declaring those who held pro-
perty in England to be subject to- all the burdens connected
with it ; and it was to be added that natives of Scotland were
to be excluded from a very considerable number of official
positions. The proposed measure would have met all the diffi-
culties of the case. The disqualifying portions of the Act w^ould
certainly be repealed as soon as the natives of England and
Scotland began to feel that they were in reality members of a
common country.
The Government desired time to consider this proposition,
especially as there was reason to believe that the Commons
thought of supporting it by passing a vote in direct condem-
nation of the opinion of the Judges that the Post-nati were
already naturalised. The King’s ministers accordingly took
the somewhat extraordinary step of advising the Speaker to
exaggerate a slight indisposition, in order that the Commons
might be unable, in his absence, to proceed to any business
of importance.* Soon afterwards the dispute entered on a new
stage. The Commons made the sweeping proposal that the
XJnio-n should be made still more complete by bring-
March 28. about an identity of the laws of the two nations, in
order that Scotchmen who were to be admitted to honours and
property in England might be subject to the law which was cur-
rent in England. Bacon opposed this plan, on the.ground that,
„ excellent as it was, it would lead to intolerable delay. ^
May 3<
TheKini At last it was known that the King would himself
speech. address the two Houses. The speech which he
delivered on this occasion was decidedly superior to any that
^ Coii. MSS. Tit. F, iv. fol. 55. The debate in committee of March 6
on which the proposal was founded, is reported in S. P. Dorn. xxvi. 72.
® Salisbury to Lake, March 18, S, P. Dorn. xxvi. 90.
* iMtm and Life, iii. 335. * C. 357.
THE KINGS SPEECH,
357
i6c7
had yet fallen from his lips. For once he had a cause to plead
which was not his own, and in pleading the cause of li'is
country, and in striving to promote the future welfare of both
nations, he allowed but few traces to be seen of that petulance
by which his speeches were usually disfigured. He told the
Houses plainly, that he looked forward to a perfect union
between the countries ; but he told them no less plainly, that
he was aware that such a union would be a question of time.
For the present, all that he asked was the passing of the
measure now before them. Though he trusted that they
would not object to a complete naturalisation of the Post-nati,
he would be ready to consent to any reasonable limitations
upon his right of appointment to offices under the Crown,
The tone of this speech, so much kindlier and more earnest
than had been expected, produced a favourable impression on
the House of Commons, and it "was thought by some that if
the question had been put to the vote immediately, the King
would, have obtained the greater part of his demands.^ The
speech was, however, followed by an adjournment for nearly
three weeks, and when the House met again after Easter the
impression had worn off. There was much discussion upon
the course to be pursued, and it was only after the King had
rated them for their delay that the House determined to con-
fine its attention to the points upon which there was little
Maya, difference, and to reserve the questions of commerce
ho™ lavJf naturalisation for future consideration. A Bill
don was accordingly drawn up for the abolition of those
criminals, laws in which Scotland was regarded as a hostile
country, on the condition that statutes of a similar description
should be repealed in the next Parliament which met in Scot-
land. It w^as also decided to introduce into this Bill clauses
regulating the manner in which Englishmen were to be brought
to trial for offences committed in Scotland. -During the last
four years much had been done for the pacification of the
Borders. The transportation, to Ireland of many of the worst
offenders had been attended with satisfactory results, and the
‘ Boderie to Puisieux. April 1607, AmbassaJes, ii. 168.
VOL. I.
Z
THE POST-NATL
CH. vm
53 »
harmony which now for the first time existed between the
officers on the two sides of the frontier, had brought some
kind of peace and order into that wild district. Still, the old
mosstrooping spirit was not to be changed in a day. The
Commissioners had therefore proposed that persons charged
with criminal offences of a certain specified character should
be handed over for trial to the authorities of the kingdom in
which the offences had been committed. In this proposal,
which had been acted upon since the accession of James, they
were supported by the Commissioners for the Borders, who, as
well as the gentry ^ of the northern shires, w^ere unwilling to
see any change introduced which would lessen the chances of
bringing to conviction the Scottish plunderers who still infested
their lands. They thought that if the thief were to be sent back
to be tried in his own country, it w^ould be impossible to
procure a conviction, as no hostile witness would dare to
present himself among the neighbours of the accused person.
The House of Commons looked at the question from a
different point of view. The Northern gentry had been eager
to support a system which made conviction easy, but they had
forgotten to inquire how it would work in the case of an
innocent, man. Under it, an Englishman charged with a crime
which he had not committed, might be sent into Scotland for
trial. When he was once amongst his accusers,
Prisoners to he could hardly hope to escape the gallows. The
theirwrT House of Commons preferred the safety of the
country. innoceut to the certainty of condemning the guilty.^
In the spirit which was aftenvards to pervade the crinfinal
jurisprudence of the country, they decided that the accused
should be tried on his own side of the Borders. Nor was
the House content even with this safeguard against an unjust
verdict. By an iniquitous custom which had become the
tradition of the law of England, no counsel was allowed to
‘ i. 377‘
* Yet, in 1610, they changed their minds, and repealed this clause.
The Repealing Act (7 & 8 Jac. T. cap. I), however, was only to be in
force till the next Parliament, when it expired, the Parliament of 1614
being dissolved before there had been time to consider the subject,
BORDER TRIALS.
339
1607
speak on behalf of a prisoner accused of felony, nor was an
oath administered to the witnesses who were called to speak
on his behalf. This custom was the relic of a system which
had long passed away. As long as the jury were sworn
witnesses, they only called in additional witnesses for the
purpose of obtaining further information. The prisoner did
not call any witnesses at all. In due course of time, the sworn
witnesses became judges of the fact, and the witnesses for the
prosecution were regarded as accusers, in some measure filling
the places of the old sworn witnesses. While, therefore, an
oath was tendered to them, persons who might appear to give
their testimony on behalf of the prisoner, were looked upon as
irregularly present, and were left unsworn. The consequence
was, that an excuse was given to an unfair jury to neglect
evidence tendered in support of the prisoner, because it had
not been confirmed by an oath.
As usual, the lawyers had invented reasons for approving
of a custom which had grown up unperceived amongst them.
When Sandys proposed that the prisoners in Border trials
should be allowed the assistance of counsel, and added that he
should be glad to see the same course adopted over all England,
Hobart immediately rose and declared that he regarded this as
an attempt to shake the corner-stone of the law, and advised
that such suggestions should be reserved for the time when
they might be deliberating on a general revision of the laws of
the two countries.^ In a similar spirit, arguments were brought
against the proposal to allow the witnesses of the prisoner to be
sworn. ^ In spite of all opposition, the proposed clause was
carried. Another clause was also carried, which ordered that
juries should be chosen from a higher class of men than that
from which they were selected in the rest of the country, and
power was given them to reject such witnesses as they might
suppose to be inclined, from affection or malice, to falsify their
evidence. Nothing, however, was done to give the prisoner
the benefit of counsel.®
* Notes of proceedings, May 29, S. P. Dom. xxvii. 30.
® Collection of arguments in the House of Commons, June 5, S. P,
Dom. xxvii. 44. ® 4 Jac. I. cap. i.
340
THE POST-HA TT
CH. VIIL
If these long debates had led but to a slight result, they
at least served to commend Bacon to the King, At last, after
years of weary waiting, his feet were fairly placed on
ladder of promotion. On June 25, before the
CeSr session, he became Solicitor-General,
Doderidge having been induced to accept the post
of King’s Serjeant, according to the arrangement proposed by
Ellesmere in the preceding summer. By his marked ability in
the conduct of an unpopular cause, in which his whole sympa-
thies were engaged, Bacon had done more than enough to
entitle him to the honour which he now achieved.
Busy as the session had been, the Commons had not been
so preoccupied with the' debates on the Union as to be unable
to pay attention to the complaints of the English merchants
trading in Spain. Ever since the treaty had been signed, in 1604,
the relations between Spain and England had been
Relation subjected to a strain, arising from the ill-feeling
Kn^knd and wliich was the Icgacy of the long war— -a feeling which
Spain. Government strove in vain to allay, by repeated
attempts to draw the bonds of amity closer than the character
of the two nations would warrant.
In the spring of 1605 the question of the neutrality of the
English ports reached a crisis. The Spanish admiral, Don Louis
Conflict Fajardo, had received orders to transport 12,000
men from Spain into the Netherlands. If, as was not
£ improbable, he was unable to land them in Flanders,
harbour. he was to Set them on shore in England, where it
was supposed that they would obtain protection till means
could be obtained to send them across the Straits in small boats
which might slip over from time to time. The execution of
this commission was entrusted by the admiral to Pedro de
Cubia, who seized upon a number of foreign vessels which
happened to be lying at Lisbon, and converted them into trans-
ports for his soldiers. One of these was an English vessel, and
another was the property of a Scotchman.
On May 14 the fleet left Lisbon. By the time that it had
arrived at the entrance of the Channel, the Dutch Admiral
Haultain had taken up a position off Dover, with the intention
i6o5 SEA-FIGHT OFF DOVER. 341
of barring the passage of the Straits. The Spaniards neglected
even to take the ordinary precaution of keeping together. On
June 2 , two of their ships found themselves in the presence of
the enemy. The crews, after firing a few shots, ran them both
on shore. A few of those who were on board escaped by
swimming. The remainder, according to the custom which
prevailed in those horrible wars, were massacred to a man.
The next day the eight remaining vessels came up. The
leading ship, on board which was the Spanish admiral, was the
English merchantman which had been seized at Lisbon. Tire
English crew were still on board, and their knowledge of the
coast stood the admiral in good stead. They kept the vessel
close to the shore, and were able to slip into Dover harbour
without suffering much damage. Of the others, one was cut
off by the enemy. As on the preceding day, the Dutch took
few prisoners, and threw the greater part of the officers and
men into the sea. Two more vessels shared the same fate.
They attempted to run on shore, but were boarded before the
crews could escape. The remaining four made their way into
the harbour. The Dutch, in the ardour of the combat, forgot
that their enemies were now under the protection of the English
flag. This was too much for the commander of the Castle, who
had for two days been a spectator of the butchery which had
been committed under his eyes. He gave orders to fire upon the
aggressors, who drew off with the loss of about a hundred men.
This affair gave rise to a long series of negotiations. The
Spani.sh ambassador, thinking that James would be sufficiently
Negotiations aiinoyed at the proceedings of the Dutch fleet to
grant him anything which he might choose to ask,
soldiers. demanded that the remainder of the troops should
be conveyed to Flanders under the protection of the English
fleet. I'his was at once refused, but James allowed himself to
be prevailed upon to request the States to give permission to
the Spaniards to pass over. When he heard that this demand
had been rejected, he offered to allow them to remain at Dover
so long as they were maintained at the expense of the King of
Spain. This offer was accepted, and they remained in England
foi some months. Their numbers were much thinned by the
342
THE POST^NATL
CH. vm.
destitution which was caused by the neglect of their own Govern-
ment At last, in December, the handful that remained took
advantage of one of the long winter nights, when the blockading
fleet had been driven from the coast by a storm, and made
their way over to Dunkirk and Gravelines. ^
In Spain itself, the English merchants who had begun, even
before the conclusion of the treaty, to visit the country, were
but ill satisfied with the treatment they received.
Eng'Smen The officers of the Inquisition declared loudly that
by their authority was not derived from the King of
Spain, and that, therefore, they were not bound by
the treaty which he had made.^ On the arrival of
tne Earl of Nottingham, who was sent over on a special mission
to swear to the peace on behalf of the King of England, the
Spanish Government at first declined to include in
Ratification the instrument of ratification the additional articles
of the treaty. English Protestants were freed from perse-
cution. Nottingham refused to give way, and the whole treaty
was solemnly ratified.^ But it w’^as not long before Sir Charles
Cornwallis, who remained in Spain as the ordinary ambassador,
had to complain that these articles were not carried into execu-
tion. As soon as an English ship arrived in port, it was boarded
by the officials of the Inquisition, who put questions to the
sailors about their religion, and searched the vessel for heretical
books. If any of the crew wTnt on shore, they were liable to
ill-treatment if they refused to kiss the relics which were offered
to them as a test of their religion. It was not till nearly four
months after the ratifications had been exchanged that an order
was obtained from the King, putting a stop to these practices.'*
The growing estrangement between the two countries
must have made the Spanish Government still more eager
to convert the peace with England into a close alliance. In
«, compared with the papers in Winwood, and in the Holland
series in the i*. P.
® Chamberlain to Winwood, Dec. i8, 1604, Wmw. ii. 41. Letters
received from Spain by Wilson, Dec. 14 and 17, 1604, S. P, Spa/n.
Two letters of Cornwallis to Cranborne, May 31, 1605, S. P. Spain*
* Memorial presented by Cornwallis, Sept. 14, 1605, S. P. Spain,
343
i6o5 PROPOSED SPANISH MARRIAGE.
July 1605, hints were thrown out to Cornwallis at Madrid,
_ . . similar to those which had been thrown out bv the
Proposition •'
fora Spanish ambassadors in England, that the King of
between Spain would gladly see his eldest daughter married
Henr 5 ?and to Prince Henry. Spain would surrender to the young
the Infanta. claims to a large portion of the Netherlands.
If the proposed marriage were not agreeable, a large sum of
money, as well as the possession of some fortified towns in the
Low ‘Countries, would be guaranteed to Jaihes if he could per-
suade the Dutch to give up their independence upon certain con-
ditions which were afterwards to be agreed upon. Salisbury, who
probably thought that these overtures might be made the basis
of negotiations which might give peace to the Netherlands, and
who was compelled by the receipt of his pension to keep up
at least the appearance of a good understanding with the Court
of Spain, directed Cornwallis to ask that some definite proposal
should be submitted to him.^ The suggestion that James should
mediate was repeated. After some delay the English Council
directed Cornwallis to inform the Spaniards that James was un-
willing to propose to the States to accept his mediation, as it was
certain that they would refuse to submit to their old masters upon
any terms. If, however, the Spaniards still desired it, he would
direct Winwood to sound the minds of the Dutch upon the sub-
ject. If, on the other hand, the alternative of the marriage were
preferred by Spain, he would ask the States whether they would
Growing ^ reccivc his son as their sovereign. The
cooinebs Spaniards, ho^vever, wdro had perhaps never intended
between ^ ^
Spain and lo do more than to lure James away from his alliance
England. Dutch, upon further consideration raised
objections to the marriage of the Infanta with a Protestant, and
the negotiation fell to the ground.
After the discovery of the Gunpowder Plot, all chance of a
close alliance between the two Governments was for the present
at an end. The knowledge that the English troops in the service
of the Archduke had been intended by the conspirators to co-
operate with them by invading England, induced James to refuse
* Salisbury to Cornwallis, Oct. 24, 1605, Winw, ii. 147 ; and a series
of documents commencing at p. 160.
344
THE TOST-NATL
CH. Yin.
to allow any further levies to be made.^ A few weeks later, a
clause in the new Recusancy Act prescribed that no person
should be allowed to leave the realm without taking the oath
of allegiance, which must have effectually prevented many from
passing over to Flanders. Nor was the news of the severity
with which the Catholics were treated in England likely to
make Jc^mes popular in Spain. James, on his part, was no less
irritated at the refusal of the Archduke to give up Owen and
Baldwin, who were believed to have been implicated in the con-
spiracy, and he knew that in the course which had been taken,
the Court of Brussels had the full support of that of Spain.
Nor was James unwarranted in supposing that the feeling
of horror with which he was regarded in Spain might lead to
Plots formed the formation of fresh conspiracies against his person,
in Spain j,q despatches of the ambassadors
at Madrid and Brussels fuller of reports of plots and conspiracies
than in the summer of 1606. Of these plots, however, one only
came to a head.
On July 6, a certain Captain Newce* was brought before
the Privy Council. His account of himself was, that he had
Nera’s _ served in Ireland during the war, but had been dis-
anon. wlicn the army was reduced.
In May 1605, he had come to London, and, at Salisbury's
recommendation, the Dutch ambassador had promised him a
captmn’s command if he could succeed in levying a company
for the States. With this object in view he returned to Ireland,
provided with recommendatory letters to the Deputy. Ireland
was at this time full of discharged soldiers, whose services were
no longer required. When he arrived there, he found that he
was too late, m all the Englishmen who were willing to serve
the Sutes had already given in their names to another ofBcer
who was employed on a similar errand. He then tried 1 1 pre-
rail upon Irishmen to serve under him. They told him that
to Lhf 1° to enlisting again, but that, if they were
fight at all they preferred fighting on the side of Spain.
Newce, who, like many others in the days before the army had
‘ Salisbury to Winwood, March 15, 1606, i P. mUaiid.
Declaration of Captain Newce, July 6, 1606, J. P. Dorn, naii, 34
i5o6 FRANCESCHPS PLOT. 345
become a profession for life, had no scruples in joining any side
wiiich would pay him, readily assented, and sailed for Spain,
with iw’o hundred men. Upon his arrival, the authorities, who
knew that he had formerly served under the English Govern-
ment, put him in prison as a spy, and dispersed his men
amongst different regiments. Shortly after this he fell in with
a Colonel Franceschi, who incited him to take vengeance upon
the English Government, by which he had been deprived of his
command in Ireland. He obtained from him several particulars
of the state of the Irish fortifications, and told him that, if war
should break out, he should be provided with 10,000/. and a
force with which he might invade that country. Franceschi,
who had probably received some vague intelligence of the ex-
istence of the Gunpowder Plot, added that peace could not
long endure. Ere long, he said, he would hear strange news
from England, where, if he had not been deceived, there would
be gi'eat changes before Christmas. Meanwhile, it was suggested
to him that he would do good service if he would go into the
Low Countries and enter into a correspondence with some
of his old comrades who were in the service of the States, as
he might be able to induce them to betray some of the towns
which were intrusted to their keeping.
Newce accordingly left Spain, as if for the purpose of
travelling into Flanders ; but instead of going directly to his
destination, he slipped over to England, and told the whole
story to Salisbury, who directed him to continue on good terms
with Franceschi, and to let him know when any plot which
might be in hand was ripe for execution. Going over to the
Low Countries, he again met Franceschi, an.d was told by him
of a secret service which would bring him great rewards. He
could not obtain any information of the nature of this service,
but he was informed that if he w'ould go into England, a brother
of Franceschi’s should join him there, and acquaint him with
all that was necessary for him to know. He accordingly re-
turned to England in the beginning of March. It was not till
June 29 that Tomaso Franceschi, -who had been sent over by
his brother, joined him at Dover. He had crossed in com-
panionship with an Irishman, named Ball, who acted as secre-
THE POST-NATL
cii. vm.
346
tary to the Spanish anibassador in London. Upon their arriv^al
in London, if Newce is to be believed, Franceschi offered him
^ 40,000/. as a reward for the service which he was to
He isasted , r ■, n i • t • i
to betray perform, but refused to tell him wmat it was, unless
SJtffie/ ^ he would first take an oath of secrecy. He was also
towns. associate, and to send his own wife and
child, as well as the wife, son, or brother of his associate, to
Antwerp, to be kept as hostages for his fidelity. After making
some difficulties, he was at last induced to take the oath of
secrecy, and was told that he was required to assist in betraying
Bergen-op-Zoora, Flushing, or Rammekens. On the following
day he met Franceschi upon Tower Hill. He had taken the
precaution of requesting a friend named Leddington to follow
them, and to do his best to overhear their conversation. Fran-
ceschi repeated the proposal of betraying Flushing, and they
went down the river together to look for a vessel to take Newce
over to Holland. Leddington^ asserted that, as they were
returning from a fruitless search for such a vessel, he overheard
Proposal Franceschi say, ‘‘ A brave-spirited fellow, with a good
to murder horsc and a pistol, might do it and go a great way
the King. ^ night ; ” to which Newce answered,
“ The best time for it would be when he did hunt at Royston.”
These words were declared by Newce to have been part of a
conversation in which Franceschi proposed to him to murder
the King; and it must be confessed that, if they were really
spoken, they could bear no other interpretation.
On the following morning, Newce met Franceschi at the
Spanish ambassador’s. He told him that there were difficulties
Ball’s at- in the way of betraying the towns in the Netherlands.
Soon after these words had passed between them,
^ Ball offered Newce some sweetmeats, some of which
he ate at the time, and the remainder he took home, where he
and his wife, and some other women, partook of them. Soon
afterwards, all who had tasted them were seized with sickness.
A physician who was sent for declared that they had been
poisoned. Newce immediately sent to inform Salisbury of
» Deposition of Leddington, July 6, 1606, S. P. Dow. xxii. 33.
J47
=6o6 FRA.VCESCNrS PLOT.
what had happened. Tranceschi was at once arrested. The
^ Spanish ambassador refused to sui render Ball, upon
and Ball which Salisbury sent to seize him, even in the am'^as-
^ ’ sador’s house. Franceschi admitted that there had
been a plot for the betrayal of one of the towns, bul denied that
he had ever said a word about murdering the King.^ Newce,
however, when confronted with him, persisted in the truth of
his story. Ball, after some prevarication, admitted that he had
given the sweetmeats to Newce.
If Franceschi had been an Englishman, and if Ball had not
been under the ambassador’s protection, further inquiries would
but are sub- ^’^doubtedly have been made. As the matter stood,
the Government thought it prudent to let the investi-
gation drop. Newce’s character was not sufficiently
good to enable Salisbury to rely upon his evidence, and he was
unwilling to give further provocation to the ambassador, whose
privileges he had recently set at nought, by ordering an arrest
to be made in his house. It was not long before Ball was set
at liberty j Fuinceschi was kept in the Tower for more than a
year, at the expiration of which time, he, too, was allowed to
leave the country.^
Whilst the Spaniards were becoming more and more hostile
to England, there was little hope that English traders who fell
into their power would receive even simple justice at their
hands. These traders were now very numerous. In 1604 the
Commons had declared strongly in favour of throwing open
the commerce with Spain to all Englishmen who
The trade were willing to engage in it. The proposal had been
resisted by the Government on the ground that the
burden of protecting the trade ought to fall in the first place
on the merchants themselves, and that some organization was
necessary in order to provide payment for the consuls who were
’ Exauiinationc of Franceschi, July 6 and 12, i6o6, S. P. Dorn. xxii.
39> SI.
* Boderie to Buisieux, 1607, Amhassad&s de M. de la Poderie,
I. 203. This account agrees with that given in the papers in the S.
excepting in some of the dates.
THE POSr^NATL
CH. vrri.
wS
to act on behalf of English mariners and traders in the Spanish
ports, a^fter the end of the first session of Parliament Chief
Justice Popham proposed, as a compromise, that a company
should be formed, but that it should be open to all
'I'he Spanish who wcre Willing to contribute a fixed sum. Salisbury
Company. adopted the plan, and in 1605 a Spanish
company was established on this footing. '
In the session of 1605-6, however, it appeared that the
House of Commons was dissatisfied with this arrangement.
There were many owners of small craft in the Channel
ports, who had hoped to be able to make a livelihood
Commons, by running their vessels to Lisbon or Corunna, though
it was out of their power to pay the subscription required by
the new company. Their cause was taken up in the Commons,
and a Bill was brought in declaring that all subjects of his
Majesty should have full liberty of trade with France, Spain,
and Portugal, in spite of any charters which had been or might
at any future time be granted.^ Salisbury saw that the feeling
of the Commons was too strong to be resisted, and the Bill
passed through both Houses without opposition.
The petty traders thus admitted to commercial intercourse
with Spain did not always receive advantage from the privilege
which they had craved. Their treatment by the Spanish
authorities w^as often e.xceedingly harsh. The slightest suspicion
of the presence of Dutch goods in an English vessel \vas enough
to give rise to the seizure of the whole cargo. The merchants
complained, with reason, of the wearisome delays of the Spanish
courts. Whatever had once been confiscated on any pretext,
w'as seldom, if ever, restored. Even if the owner w'as sufficiently
fortunate to obtain a decision in his favour, the value of the
property was almost invariably swallowed up in the expenses
of the suit, sw^ollen, as they w^ere, by the bribes which it wms
necessary to present to the judges. It was suspected that the
(lovernment was as often prevented from doing justice by its
inability to furnish the compensation demanded, as from any
’ Charter of the Spanish Company, May 31, 1605 ; Salisbury to Pop
ham, Sept 8, 1605, .S'. P. Dovi. xiv. 21, xv. 54,
“ Memoranda, April u, 1606, S, P. Dom, \x. 25,
i6o7 SPAMS}/ CRUELTIES. 349
intention to defraud. But whatever its motives may have been^
the consequences were extremely annoying. That English
ships trading with America should have been seized, can hardly
be considered matter for surprise. But English patience was
rapidly becoming exhausted, when it was known in London
that ship after ship had been pillaged, upon one pretence or
another, even in Spanish w^aters. Cornwallis represented to the
Spanish Government the hardships under which his countrymen
w^ere suffering. He was met with smooth -words, and promises
were given that justice should be done ; but for a long time
these promises were followed by no practical result whatever.
Such were the grievances which, in 1607, the merchants kid
before the Commons. They selected the case of the ‘ Trial,’
1607. as one which w’-as likely to move the feelings of the
diautT^* House. On February 26, Sir Thomas Lowe, one of
^ the members for the City of London, brought their
Commons, case forward. The ‘ Trial ’ on her return from Alexan-
dria, in the autumn of 1604, had fallen in with a Spanish fleet.
The Mediterranean was at that time infested by sw^arms of
pirates, in whose enterprises Englishmen had taken their share.
The Spaniards, on their part, w^ere not content with attempting
to repress piracy. Orders had been given to their officers to
prevent all traffic with Jews and Mahometans, on the ground
that it was unlawful to trade with the enemies of the Christian
religion. On this occasion, the purser of the ‘ Trial ’ was sum-
moned on board the admiral’s ship, and was told by that
officer —so runs the narrative which was read in the House of
Commons — ‘ that he was commanded to make search for
Turks’ and Jews’ goods, ^ of which, if our ship had none aboard,
he then had nothing to say to them, for that now a happy peace
was concluded between the Kings, so as they would but only
make search, and, not finding any, would dismiss them. But,
notwithstanding their promises, albeit they found no Turks’ nor
Jews’ goods, they then alleged against them that their ship
was a ship of war,^ and that they had taken from a Frenchman
a piece of ordnance, a sail, and a hawser.’ The Englishmen
» a % i. 340.
“ i.c. a pirate.
350
THE POST-NATL
CH. vnr.
endeavoured to prove that the ship was a peaceable merchant-
man; but in spite of all that they could say, the Spaniard
‘ commanded the purser to be put to the torture, and hanged
him up by the arms upon the ship’s deck, and, the more to in-
crease his torture,’ they hung heavy weights to his heels ;
‘nevertheless he endured the torture the full time, and confessed
no otherwise than truth. So then they put him the second
time to torture again, and hanged him up as aforesaid ; and,
to add more torment, they tied a live goat to the rope, which,
with her struggling did, in most grievous manner, increase his
tonnent, all which the full time he endured. The third time,
with greater fury, they brought him to the same torment
again, at which time, by violence, they brake his arms, so as
they could torment him no longer; nevertheless he con-
fessed no otherwise but the truth of their merchants’ voyage.
All which, with many other cruelties, being by our mariners at
sea endured for the space of two months, all which time they
enforced ship and men to serve them to take Turks, as they
pretended.’ The poor men were at last sent to Messina,
where the officers were put in prison, and the crew sent to the
galleys, ‘ where they endured more miseries than before, inso-
much as few or none of them but had the hair of their heads
and faces fallen away ; and in this misery either by torment,
straitness of prison, or other cruel usage, in a short time the
master, merchant, and purser died, and to their deaths never
confessed other but the truth ; and, being dead, they would
afford them none other burial but in the fields and sea-sands.
All of our men being wasted, saving four,^ they were only left
there in prison and galleys, and these, through their miseries,
very weak and sick. One of them, called Ralph Boord, was
twice tormented, and had given him a hundred bastinadoes to
enforce him to confess, and for not saying as they would have
him, was committed to a wet vault, where he saw no light, and
lay upon the moist earth, feasted with bread and water, for
eight days, and being then demanded if he would not confess
otherwise than before, he replied he had already told them the
^ There were eighteen originally.
i6o7 SPANISH CRUELTIES, 3^1
truth, and would not say otherwise ; whereupon they took from
him his allowance of bread, and for seven days gave him uo
sustenance at all, so that he w'as constrained to eat orange-peels
which other prisoners had left there, which stunk, and were
like dirt, and at seven days’ end could have eaten his own
flesh ; and the fifteenth day the gaoler came unto him and not
finding him dead, said he would fetch him wine and bread to
comfort him, and so gave him some wine and two loaves of
bread, which he did eat, and within a little while after, all his
hair fell off his head ; and, the day after, a malefactor for clip-
ping of money was put into the same vault, who, seeing what
case his fellow-prisoner was in, gave him some of his oil he
had for his candle to drink, by which means ... his life was
preserved.’
At last the four who were left alive acknowledged that they
had robbed the French ship of the piece of ordnance and the
other articles, which had in reality belonged to the ship when
she sailed from England.
The indignation felt by the House of Commons at such a
tale as this may easily be conceived. They took the matter up
The Com This case of the ‘ Trial ’ was only one out of
mons for- many others. The ‘ Vineyard ’ had been seized under
tietitionto prctence that she was carrying ammunition to the
>he Lords. Xurks. It was said that, besides the hardships in-
flicted upon the crews, English merchants had been unfairly
deprived of no less a sum than 200 , 000 /.^ But it was more
easy to feel irritation at such proceedings than to devise a
remedy. Even the merchants themselves did not dare to
advise an immediate declaration of war. Merchant vessels
went far more at their own risk in those days than they do now.
That the nation should engage in war for the sake of a few
traders was not to be thought of. The Government did its
part if it remonstrated by means of its ambassadors, and used
all its influence to obtain justice.
Still the merchants were not content that the matter should
rest here. They had discovered an old statute authorising the
* C. J. i. 373-
352
THE POST-NATL
CH. via.
issue of letters of marque, upon the receipt of which the aggrieved
persons might make reprisals upon the goods of the nation which
had inflicted the wrong. They requested that such letters might
now be issued, and their request was forwarded by the Com-
mons to the Lords.
On June 15 ^ a conference was held between the two
Houses. Salisbury told the Commons that peace and war
must be determined by the general necessities of the
Eivi kingdom. He reminded them that it was at their
request that the late Spanish Company had been
abolished, and that the merchants were now suffering from the
loss of the protection which they had derived from it. It was
notorious that it was difficult to obtain justice in Spain, and
those who traded there must not expect to fare better than the
inhabitants of the country. In reviewing the particulars of
their petition, he told them that each merchant must carry on
trade with the Indies at his own risk. With respect to the
other complaints, the Spanish Government had given assurance
that justice should be done ; he therefore thought it better to
wait a little longer before taking any decided step. He was
able, without difficulty, to point out the extreme inconveniences
of the issue of letters of marque. It would be immediately
followed by a confiscation of all English property in Spain,
the value of which would far exceed that of the few Spanish
prizes which the merchants could hope to seize.
He then turned to argue another question with the Com-
mons. He maintained that the determination of war and
und argues peace was a prerogative of the Crown, with which
tilTns'ffwar Lower House was not entitled to meddle. This
“e t^bf assertion he supported by a long series of precedents
by from the times of the Plantagenets. It had often
Crown. happened that the Commons, from anxiety to escape
a demand for subsidies, had excused themselves from giving
an opinion on the advisability of beginning or continuing a war.
He argued that when the opinion of Parliament had really
’’ The speeches of Salisbury and Northampton are reported in Bacon’s
tetters and Life, iii. 347.
* Hallam, Middle Kges (1853), iii. 53.
i6o7 FIEIVS OF SALISBURY AND NORTHAMPTON 353
been given, it was ‘ when the King and Council conceived that
either it was material to have some declaration of the zeal and
affection of the people, or else when the King needed to demand
mone 3 ?s and aids for the charge.of the wars.’ His strongest argu-
ment was derived from the difficulty which the House must feel
in doing justice upon such matters. After all they could only
hear one side of the question. The Commons had themselves
felt the difficulty. ‘ For their part,’ they had said a few days
before,^ ‘they can make no perfect judgment of the matter
because they have no power to call the other party, and that
therefore they think it more proper for their Lordships, and do
refer it to them.’ In fact, negotiations with foreign powers
must always be left in the hands of the Government, or of some
other select body of men. The remedy for the evil, which
was plainly felt, lay rather in the general control of Parliament
over the Government than in any direct interference with it in
the execution of its proper functions. Salisbury concluded by
assuring the Commons that no stone should be left unturned
to obtain redress, and by a declaration that if, contrary to
his expectation, that redress were still refused, the King would
be ready ‘ upon just provocation to enter into an honourable
war.’
Salisbury was followed by Northampton, in a speech which
hardly any other man in England would have allowed himself to
utter. In him was combined the superciliousness
p- of a courtier with the haughtiness of a member of
the old nobility. He treated the Commons as if
they were the dust beneath his feet He told them that their
members were only intended to express the wants of the coun-
ties and boroughs for which they sat, and that thus having
‘ only a private and local wisdom,’ they were ‘ not fit to examine
or determine secrets of State. The King alone could decide
upon such questions, and it was more likely that he would grant
their desires if they refrained from petitioning him, as he would
prefer that he should be acknowledged to be the fountain from
which all acceptable actions arose. After advising them to
» C. y. i, 381.
A A.
VOL. I.
354
THE FOST-NATL
CH. viii.
imitate Joab, ‘who, lying al the siege of Rabbah, and finding
it could not hold out, writ to David to come and take the
honour of taking the town,’ he concluded by assuring them
that the Government would not be forgetful of the cause of the
merchants.
However insulting these remarks of Northampton were, the
Commons had nothing to do but to give way before Salisbury’s
cooler and more courteous reasoning. They had
moLghe no feasible plan to propose on their own part and
it was certainly advisable to attempt all means of
obtaining redress before engaging in a war of such difficulty
and danger. At Madrid, Cornwallis did what he could. He
frequently succeeded in obtaining the freedom of men who
were unjustly imprisoned,^ but the difficulties and delays of
Spanish courts were almost insuperable. In cases where there
was a direct breach of treaty, a threat of war would probably
have expedited their proceedings ; but there was an evident
disinclination on the part of the English Government to
engage in a hazardous contest for the sake of merchants. It
was some time before English statesmen were able to recognise
the value of the interests involved in commerce, or were en-
trusted with a force sufficient to give it that protection which it
deserves.
On July 4, after a long session. Parliament was prorogued
to November lo. The members of the Lower House would
July 4. thus be able to consider at their leisure the proposed
of which were intended to complete the original
scheme of the Commissioners for the Union. Of
James’s real inclination to do what was best for both countries,
there can be no doubt whatever. In another difficulty which
iiad recently shown itself in England, his care to do justice had
significantly asserted itself.
Before the prorogation took place he had been called upon
to deal with one of those tumults caused by the con
St en version of arable land into pasture, which had been
ebsures. the root of SO much trouble during the whole of the
preceding century. In the greater part of England the inevit-
1 PTifizu . ii. 320, 338, 360, 367, 391, 410, 439 ; iii. 16,
THE ENCLOSURES.
355 .
i6c7
able change had been already accomplished. But in Leice^ster-
shire and the adjoining counties special circumstances still
caused misery amongst the agriculturists. In addition to the
sheep farms, which were still extending their limits, several
gentlemen had been enclosing large parks for the preservation
of deer. An insurrection broke out, the violence of which was
, principally directed against park pdes and fences of every de-
scription. It was easily suppressed, and some of the ringleaders
were executed. But the King gave special orders to a Com-
mission, issued for the purpose of investigating the cause of
the disturbances, to take care that the poor received no injury
by the encroachments of their richer neighbours. As no
further complaints were heard, it may be supposed that his
orders were satisfactorily carried out^
Undoubtedly, however, James’s mind was more fully occu
pied with the progress of the Union than with the English en-
August. closures. In August, the Scottish Parliament met
and assented to the whole of the King’s scheme, with
^ the proviso that it should not be put in action till
similar concessions had been made in England. It is doubt-
ful whether the English Parliament, if it had met in November,
would have been inclined to reciprocate these advances. At
all events, before the day of meeting arrived, James resolved to
avail himself of the known opinions of the judges, to obtain
a formal declaration from them of the right of the Post-nati
to naturalisation without any Act of Parliament whatever.
A further prorogation removed any danger of a protest
from the Commons till the decision of the judges was made
known.
In the autumn of 1607, therefore, a piece of ground was
purchased in the name of Robert Colvill,^ an infant born at
Edinburgh in 1605, and an action was brought in his name
against two persons who were supposed to have deprived him
of his land. At the same time, a suit was instituted in Chancery
’ There are several letters amongst the Hatfield MSS. showing the
King’s an.xiety on behalf of the poor in this affair.
Known as Calvin in the English law books. He was a grandson of
Lord Colvill of Culross, whose family name was often written Colvin,
A A 2
THE POST-NATL
CH. VIII.
356
against two other persons for detaining papers relating to the
June, i(3o8. Ownership of the land. In order to decide the case,
Spitted necessary to know whether the child were not
to^namrahsa- an alien, as, if he were, he would be disabled from
judges. holding land in England. The question of law was
argued in the Exchequer Chamber, before the Chancellor and
the twelve judges. Two only of the judges argued that Colvill
was an alien ; the others, together with the Chancellor, laid
down the law as they had previously delivered it in the House
of Lords, and declared him to be a natural subject of the King
of England,^
It is certain that James had no expectation that this
decision of the judges would prove a bar to the further con-
sidereration of the Union by Parliament. In Decem-
consulted Hobart, the Attorney-General, on
wto'^a extent of the divergency between the laws of
omon of the two nations. He was agreeably surprised by
Hobart’s report. If there was no more difference
than this, he said, the Scotch Estates would take no more than
three days to bring their law into conformity with that of
England.^
No doubt, James exaggerated the readiness of the Scotch
Estates to change their law. When he had obtained the
1608 judgment of the Exchequer Chamber in his favour.
Nothing he found that it was hopeless to expect that the
StthT English Parliament would give way on the Com-
Union. mercial Union. From the first they had been set
against it, and it was not likely that they would change their
minds after the question of naturalisation had been decided
in defiance of their expressed wishes. Parliament was pro-
rogued, and it was some time before it was allowed to meet
again.
There are occasions, which from time to time arise, when
progress can only be effected in defiance of a certain amount
of popular dissatisfaction, and it may be that this was one of
^ S^aU Trials, ii. 559. There are also notes of the judgments in d". P.
Dojti. XXX. 40, and xxxiv. 10.
“ Lake to Salisbury, Dec. 8, Hatfield MSS. 194, 29.
THE UNION ABANDONED.
357
them. But every attempt to move forward in such a way is
accompanied by some amount of friction, and there had already
been too much friction in the relations between James and the
House of Commons. The_ King wished to act fairly, but he
had too little sympathy alike with the best and the worst
qualities of the race which he had been called to govern, to
work in harmony with his subjects.
35S
CHAPTER IX.
THE PACIFICATION OF IRELAND.
The efforts made by James to assimilate the institutions of
England and Scotland had been crowned with a very moderate
amount of success. In pursuing the same policy in Ireland,
he was likely to meet with even greater difficulties. The stage
of civilisation which had been reached by Ireland, was so very
different; from that to which England had attained, that the
best intentions of a ruler who did not sufficiently take into
account this difference were likely to lead only to greater
disaster.
The causes which had made the possession of Ireland a
weakness rather than a strength to England were not of any
recent growth. The whole history of the two countries had
been so dissimilar, that it would have been strange if no dis-
putes had arisen between them.
Both countries had submitted to a Norman Conquest, but
the process by which England had been welded into a nation
only served to perpetuate the distractions of Ireland.
conquStS* To the astonishmcnt of their contemporaries, the
Ireland great-grandchildren of the invaders sank, except in
the immediate neighbourhood of Dublin, into the savage and
barbarous habits of the natives. The disease under which
England had suffered during the evil days of the reign of
Stephen became the chronic disorder of Ireland. Every man
whose wealth or influence was sufficient to attract around him
a handful of armed men, was in possession of a power which
knew no limits except in the superior strength of his neigh-
359
1169-1529 the ENGLISH IN IRELAND.
hours. Every castle became a centre from whence murder,
robbery, and disorder spread over the wretched country like a
flood. Against these armed offenders no law w^as of any avail,
for no authority was in existence to put it in execution. In
adopting the lawlessness of the natives, the descendants of the
invaders also adopted their peculiarities in dress and manners.
The English Government complained in vain of what they
called the degeneracy of their countrymen. The causes of
this degeneracy, which were so dark to them, are plain enough
to us. Between the conquest of England and the conquest of
Ireland there was nothing in common but the name. The army
differed from of William was obliged to maintain its organization
fequesTS Conquest, as the only means by which the
England. English nation could be kept in check ; and in the
Middle Ages organization and civilisation were identical. In
Ireland no such necessity was felt. No Irish nation, in the
proper sense of the word, was in existence. There were
numerous septs which spoke a common language, and whose
customs were similar ; but they were bound together by no
political tie sufficiently extensive to embrace the whole island,
nor were they united by any feelings of patriotism. Each petty
chief, with his little knot of armed follow'ers, was ready enough
to repel invasion from his own soil, but he was by no means
eager to assist his neighbour against the common enemy. If
he had any interest in the conflict at all, he would probably be
not unwilling to see the chieftain of the rival sept humbled by
the powerful strangers from England.
There was, therefore, amidst the general disunion of the
Irish, no sufficient motive to induce the conquerors to main-
Causesofthe tain what organization they may have brought with
them. No fear of any general rising urged them, to
querors. ];^old firmly together. In some parts of the country,
indeed, the native chieftains regained their ancient posses-
sions. Such cases, however, were of merely local impor-
tance. A Fitzgerald or a Bourke did not feel himself less
strong in his own castle because some inferior lord had lost
his lands. On the other hand, if the O’Neill or the O’Donnell
could hold his own at home, he did not trouble himself about
THE PACIFICATION OF IRELAND. ch. ix.
the fate of the other septs of the neighbourhood It mattered
little to the unfortunate peasants, who tended their cattle over
the bogs and mountains, from which race their oppressors came.
Everywhere bloodshed and confusion prevailed, with then usual
Attendants, misery and famine.
The only chance of introducing order into this chaos was
the rise of a strong central government. But of this there did
not seem to be even the most distant probability,
centkfgo- The power of the Lord-Deputy was only sufficient
vernment. maintain order in the immediate vicinity of
Dublin ; and the King of England wanted both the will and
the means to keep on foot, at the expense of the English
nation, a force sufficiently large to overawe his disorderly sub-
jects in Ireland. Occasionally a spasmodic effort was made to
reduce Ireland to submission by an expedition, conducted either
by the King in person, or by one of the princes of the blood.
But the effects of these attempts passed away as soon as the
forces were withdrawn, and at last, when the war of the Roses
broke out, they ceased altogether.
Unfortunately, what efforts were made, were made altogether
in the wrong direction. Instead of accepting the fact of the
Mea-^^ures to gradual assimilation which had been working itself
degSeracy out between the two races, the Government, in its
English in dislike of the degeneracy of the descendants of the
Ireland. settlers, attempted to widen the breach bctw'een
them and the native Irish. Statutes, happily inoperative, were
passed, prohibiting persons of English descent from marrying
Irish women, from wearing the Irish dress, and from adopt-
ing Irish customs. If such statutes had been in any degree
successful, they would have created an aristocracy of race,
which would have made it more impossible than ever to raise
the whole body of the population from the position in which
they were.
The only hope which remained for Ireland lay in the rough
Th« second surgery of a second conquest. But for this con-
|onqu^t of quest to be beneficial, it must be the work not of a
' new swarm of settlers, but of a Government free from
the passions of the colonists, and determined to enforce equal
1529 - 1^98 ™E, defeat on the BLACKWATER. 361
justice upon all its subjects alike. The danger which England
incurred from foreign powers in consequence of the Reforma-
tion, compelled the English Government to turn its attention
to Ireland, That Ireland should form an independent kingdom
was ' manifestly impossible. The only question was, whethei
it should be a dependency of England or of Spain. Unhappily
Elizabeth was not wealthy enough to establish a govern-
ment in Ireland which should be just to all alike. Much
was left to chance, and brutal and unscrupulous adventurers
slaughtered Irishmen and seized upon Irish property at
random.
Ireland was governed by a succession of officials whose term
of office was never very long. As is generally the case under such
circumstances, there were two distinct systems of government,
which were adopted in turn. One Lord-Deputy would attempt
to rule the country through the existing authorities, whether of
native or of English descent. Another would hope to establish
the government on a broader basis by ignoring these authorities
as far as possible, and by encouraging their followers to
^ make themselves independent. Sir William Fitz-
fs _ williams, who was appointed Deputy in 1586, made it
Fitzwiiiiams, object of his policy to depress the native
chiefs. This was in itself by far the more promising policy of
the two, but it required to be carried out with peculiar discre-
tion," and, above all, it could only be successful in the hands of
a man whose love of justice and fair dealing was above suspicion.
Unfortunately this was not the case with the Deputy. He was
guilty of the basest perfidy in seizing and imprisoning some of
the chiefs, and he not only accepted bribes from them, but
had the meanness not to perform his part of the bargain, for
which he had taken payment. Such conduct as this
was not likely to gain the affections of any part of the
population. The spirit of mistrust spread further under suc-
cessive Deputies, till in 1598 the news that an English force
had been defeated at the Blackwater roused the whole of Ire-
land to revolt. Never had any Irish rebellion assumed such
formidable proportions, or approached so nearly to the dignity
of a national resistance. At the head of the rebellion w^ere the
362
THE PACIFICATION OF IRELAND, ch. ix.
two great chiefs of the North, the O’Neill and the O’Donnell,
the former of whom now threw off the title with which Elizabeth
had decorated him, in the hope that he would be an object of
more veneration to his countrymen, under his native appellation
' than by his English title of Earl of Tyrone. A con-
siderable army was despatched from England to
make head against them, but Elizabeth insured the failure of
her own forces by intrusting them to the command of Essex.
His successor, Charles Blount, Lord Mountjoy, was a
Deputy of a very different character. He was known among
the courtiers as a man of studious disposition, and
Mountjoy in was Considered as little likely to distinguish himself
Ireland. active life. Elizabeth, however, with the discern
ment which rarely failed her, excepting when she allowed her
feelings to get the mastery over her judgment, selected him for
the difficult post It would have been impossible to find a man
more fit for the work which lay before him. Unostentatious
and conciliatory in manner, he listened quietly to every one’s
advice, and after weighing all that had been advanced, formed
his own plans with an in.sight into the real state of affairs of
which few others were capable, even in that age of statesmen
and captains. His designs, when once formed, were carried
out with a resolution which was only equalled by the vigour of
their conception.
When Mountjoy landed in Ireland, he could scarcely com-
mand a foot of ground beyond the immediate vicinity of the
t6oo. Queen’s garrisons. In three years he had beaten
Feb. 2 s. (jown all resistance. A large Spanish force, which
had come to the assistance of the insurgents, had been com-
pelled to capitulate. The Irish chiefs who had failed to make
their peace were pining in English dungeons, or wandering as
exiles, to seek in vain from the King of Spain the aid which
that monarch was unable or unwilling to afford. The system
by which such great results had been accomplished was very
different from that which had been adopted by Essex. Essex
had gathered his troops together, and had hurled them in a
mass upon the enemy. The Irish rebellion was not sufficiently
organized to make the most successful blow struck in one
i6oo
MOUNTJOV IN IRELAND.
3^3
quarter tell over the rest of the country, nor was it possible to
maintain a large army in the field at a distance from its base
of operations. Mountjoy saw at a glance the true character of
the war in which he was engaged. He made war upon the
Irish tribes more with the spade than with the sword. By
degrees, every commanding position, every pass between one
district and another, was occupied by a fort The garrisons
were small, but they were well-provisioned, and behind their
walls they were able to keep in check the irregular levies of a
whole tribe. As soon as this work was accomplished, all real
power of resistance was at an end. The rebels did not dare
to leave' their homes exposed to the attacks of the garrisons.
.Scattered and divided, they fell an easy prey to the small but
compact force of the Deputy, which marched through the whole
breadth of the land, provisioning the forts, and beating down
all opposition in its way.
The war was carried on in no gentle manner. Mountjoy
was determined that it should be known that the chiefs were
without power to protect their people against the
Horrible ^ . tt f j i .
character of Government He had no scruple as to the means
the war. which this Icssou was to be taught Famine or
submission was the only alternative offered. The arrival of an
English force in a district was not a temporary evil which
could be avoided by skulking for a few weeks in the bogs and
forests which covered so large a portion of the surface of the
country. Wherever it appeared, the crops were mercilessly
destroyed, and the cattle, which formed the chief part of an
Irishman’s wealth, were driven away. Then, ‘when the work
of destruction was completed, the troops moved off, to renew
their ravages elsewhere. It is impossible to calculate the
numbers which perished under this pitiless mode of warfare.
From Cape Clear to the Giant’s Causeway, famine reigned
supreme. Strange stories were told by the troopers of the
scenes which they had witnessed. Sometimes their horses
were stabbed by the starving Irish, who were eager to feast ,
upon the carcases. In one place they were shocked by the
unburied corpses rotting in the fields. In another, they dis-
covered a band of women who supported a wretched existence
364
THE PACIFICATION OF IRELAND, CH. ix.
by enticing little children to come amongst them, and massac-
ring them for food.
Before the spring of 1603, all was over. In the south, Sir
George Carew, the President of Munster, had reduced the whole
country to submission.’^ In the north, the Lord
.Submission Deputy himself had been equally successful On
of Ireland, Tyrone came in to make his submission,
and with him all resistance in Ulster was at an end, O’Donnell
having died at Simancas in the preceding autumn. When
Tyrone arrived in Dublin, he was met by the news of the death
of Elizabeth. The letter announcing her decease arrived in
Ireland on the 5 th. Within an hour after Mount] oy had
read it, King James was proclaimed through the streets of the
capital^
The Deputy had achieved the difficult task which had been
laid upon him. He had no "desire to grapple with the still
Mountjoy difficult questions which were now pressing foi
retiSto solution. Enormous as had been the results which
England, had accomplished, the organization of his con-
quest into a civilised community required still greater labour
and thought, and demanded the exercise of powers of a very
aifferent order. He himself was desirous to return to his
country with the honours which he had acquired, and to leave
to others the difficulties which were rising around him. He
was drawn in the same direction by the unhallowed ties which
bound him to Lord Rich’s wife. The first petition which he
made to the new sovereign was a request to be relieved from
his office.^
Before he received an answer, he was called away to repress
commotions which had arisen in an unexpected quarter. For
some time, the inhabitants of the seaport towns had felt con-
’ On March 26 Balingarry was the only castle which still held out
Wilmot to Carew, March 26, Iris/t Cul. i. 6. The reference is to the
Calendar of Irish State Papers by Messrs. Russell and Prendergast, where
the proper reference to the original documents will be found.
® Mountjoy to the Council, April 6, ibid. i. 10.
* Memorial enclosed in Mountjoy’s letter to the Council, April 6,
1603, ibil. In.
i6c3 cork and WATERFORD. 365
siderable dissatisfaction with the proceedings of the Govern-
. ment. Their grievances were very different from those
DissatisfaC' . ... .. i .
tion in the which gave rise to the discontent of the great chiefs
and their followers. The chiefs knew well that the
efforts of the Government at Dublin would be exerted in favour
of their dependents, and that every advantage gained by the
population over which they ruled, would diminish their own
excessive and arbitrary power. They hated the English, there-
fore, with the hatred with which an abolitionist is regarded by
a slave-owner. But the disaffection which prevailed in Cork
and Waterford is to be traced to a different origin. It was not
that the tendencies of the Government were too far advanced for
the towns, but that they were themselves too far advanced for
the Government under which they were living. They occupied
in Ireland the same position as that which is now occupied in
India by the non-official English. The general circumstances
of the country required a strong executive, and it was necessary
that the executive should determine questions which were
absolutely unintelligible to the merchants of the towns. Yet
though it w'as impossible to give them that influence over the
Government of Ireland which was e.xercised by the citizens of
London and Plymouth over the Government of England, it was
inevitable that the weight of the Deputy’s rule should press
hardly upon them.
That the Government should act wisely upon all occasions
was not to be expected. A blunder which had lately been
committed, with the most excellent intentions, had
grievances, given rise to well-founded complaints. In order
The debased to Starve out the rebels, it had been proposed that
coinage. Coinage should be debased, and that this debased
coin should be exchangeable in London for good money by
those who obtained a certificate of their loyalty from the Irish
Government. After some hesitation, Elizabeth gave in to this
scheme. The Irish, or ‘ harp,’ shillings, as they were called,
had always been worth only ninepence in English money.
Shillings were now coined which were worth no more than
threepence. It was supposed that if they fell into the hands of
lebels, they would be worth no more than their own intrinsic
366 THE PACIFICATION OP IRELAND. CK. ix.
value, whereas in the hands of loyal subjects they would bear the
value which they would command in London. As might have
been foreseen, this proved to be a mistake. Even if the
English Exchequer had made its payments with the regularity
with which payments are now made at the Bank of England,
the necessity of obtaining an order from the Government
at Dublin, and of sending to England for the good coin,
would have depreciated the new currency far below its nominal
value. But such were the difficulties thrown in the way of
those who wished to obtain payment from the impoverished
Exchequer, that the currency soon fell even below the value
which it really possessed. The misery caused by this ill-con-
sidered scheme spread over all Ireland. Government payments
were made in the new coinage at its nominal value. The
unhappy lecipients were fortunate if they could persuade any-
one to accept as twopence the piece of metal which they had
received as ninepence. Gentlemen were forced to contract
their expenditure, because it was impossible to obtain money
which would be received by those with whom they dealt. ^ But
whilst the rebels, against whom the measure was directed, felt
but little of its effects, the greatest part of the evil fell upon the
townsmen, whose trade was interrupted by the irregularity of
the currency.
In addition to the evils caused by this unfortunate error,
some of the towns complained of the presence of soldiers, who
iTie gam- garrison either within their walls or in their
SreeaSe immediate neighbourhood. It was necessary that
to the towns, the Government should have the command of the
ports by which foreign supplies might be introduced into the
country. Garrisons were accordingly maintained in the port-
towns, and soldiers were occasionally billeted upon the inhabi-
tants. The presence of a garrison was by no means desirable
in days when soldiers were levied for an uncertain term of
service, and when, consequently, armies were composed, far
more than at present, of men of a wild and reckless character,
’ Lord Slane, for instance, was obliged to send for hi? son, who was
being educated in England, on account of his inability to maintain lum,
Slane to Cecil, March 24, 1603, S. F. Ireh i. 4.
THE IRISH CHURCH
367
1603
But even if the soldiers had been models of order ana sobriety,
they could not have failed to be disagreeable to the citizens,
who knew that, in the presence of an armed force, what
liberties they had would wither away, and that their lives and
fortunes would be dependent upon the arbitrary will of the
Government. The feeling was natural ; but the time was not
yet come when their wishes could, with safety, be gratified.
The withdrawal of the English troops would have been the
signal for general anarchy, in which the citizens of the towns
would have been the first to suffer.
To these causes of dissatisfaction was added the religious
difficulty. Protestantism had never been able to make much
The way in Ireland. In large districts the mass of the
th^hands of were living in a state of heathenism. Where-
Protestants. ever there was any religious feeling at all, the people
had, almost to a man, retained their ancient faith. Even it
other causes had predisposed the Irish to receive the new
doctrines, the mere fact that Protestantism had come in under
the auspices of the English Government would have been
sufficient to mar its prospects. In general, the Irish in the
country districts were allowed to do pretty much as they
liked ; but in the towns, though the Catholics were permitted to
abstain from attending the churches, the churches themselves
were in the hands of the Protestant clergy, and the Catholic
priests were obliged to perform their functions in private.
The disaffection, which had long been smouldering, broke
out into a flame even before the death of Elizabeth. A
Proceedings Company of soldiers was ordered to Cork, to assist
at Coik. building a new fort on the south side of the town.
Sir Charles Wilmot and Sir George Thornton, w^ho, in the
absence of Sir George Carew, executed the office of President
of Munster, sent a warrant to the mayor to lodge them in the
city. I'he mayor was induced by the recorder, John Mead, a
great opponent of the English, to shut the gates in their faces.
The soldiers succeeded in forcing their way into the city, but
were compelled to pass the night in a church. In reporting
these occurrences to the President, the Commissioners had
to add th^t the corporation had torn down the proclamation
THE PACIFICATION OF IRELAND, CH. jx
ordering the use of the base coinage, that the citizens had
closed their shops, and that they had refused to sell their goods
unless they were paid in good coin.^
Upon receiving the news of the Queen’s death, the mayor,
after some hesitation, published the proclamation of the
Disputes accession of the new King.^ On April 13, he wrote
between t’le to Mouutjoy, complaining of the disorderly conduct
of the soldiers at the fort of Haulbowline, which
soldiers. guarded the entrance to the upper part of the
harbour. He requested that the fort might be intrusted to the
care of the corporation. A few days later the citizens demanded
the restoration of two pieces of ordnance which had been
carried to Haulbowline without the licence of the ma}'Or, and
threatened that, unless their property were surrendered to
them, neither munitions nor provisions should pass into the
fort The garrison agreed to give up these guns, on condition
that two others which were lying in the town, and which were
undoubtedly the property of the King, should be surrendered
in exchange. At first the mayor, hoping to starve out the
garrison, refused ; but upon the introduction of provisions
from Kinsale, the exchange was effected.^
Meanwhile Mead was doing his utmost to incite the neigh-
bouring cities to make a stand for liberty of conscience, and
Proposed restoration of the churches to the old religion,
twfen^the’ Good Friday, priests and friars passed
towns. once more through the city in procession. They
were accompanied by the mayor and aldermen, and by many
of the principal citizens. In the rear came about forty young
men scourging themselves.* At Waterford the Bibles and
’ Wilmot and Thornton to Carew, March 24, enclosing Captain
Flower’s relation, Irish Cal. i. 2.
2 Mayor of Cork to Mountjoy, April 13, enclosed by Mountjoy to
Cecil, April 26, Irish Cal i. 40 j Annals of Ireland, Bari MSS. 3544.
This MS. contains the earlier portion of Farmer’s work, of which the later
pait only is printed in the Desiderata Curiosa Hibernica. He seems to
have been an eye-witness of the scenes at Cork.
® Boyle to Carew, April 20, Irish Cal. i. 36:
* The description of the scene by the author of the Annals is a good
Specimen of the manner in which these ceremonies were regarded by the
i6o3 MOUNTJOY AT KILKENNY, 369
Books of Common Prayer were brought out of the cathe drai
and burnt. At Limerick, Wexford, and Kilkenny mass was
openly celebrated in the churches.
The magistrates of these towns felt that they were not
strong enough to carry out the undertaking which they had
commenced. They accordingly wrote to the Deputy, excusing
themselves for what had been done.^
hlountjoy was by no means pleased with the work before
nim. He wrote to Cecil that he was determined to march at
once against the towns, but that he knew that if they resisted
he should have great difficulty in reducing them. His army
could only subsist upon supplies from England, and he had
never been worse provided than he was at that moment. ■ He
had in his time ‘gone through many difficulties,’ and he hoped
to be able ‘ to make a shift wdth this.’ "Phe condition of the
currency was causing universal discontent ; the base money was
everywhere refused. He knew ‘ no way to make it current ’
where he was ‘ but the cannon.’ He hoped soon to be relieved
of his charge. He had ‘ done the rough work, and some other
must polish it’ ^
The Deputy left Dublin on the 27th. He took^ with him
eleven hundred men. On the 29th he was met by the Earl of
April 07 . Ormond. At the same time, the chief magistrate of
Mountjoy Kilkenny came to make his submission, and to at-
marche'5 , , - , . .
again$i thi tnbutc the miscouduct of the citizens to the persua-
sions of Dr. White, a young priest from Waterford,
'’i’he Deputy pardoned the town, and passed on to Waterford.
On May r he encamped within three miles of the city. He
was met by a deputation demanding toleration, and requesting
him not to enter the town with a larger number of soldiers than
the magistrates should agree to admit. In support of this re-
•<iuest, they produced a charter granted to them by King John.
The clause upon which they relied granted it as a privilege to
the town of Waterford, that the Deputy should not, without
ordinary Protestant. He takes care to mention that the scourgers did
pot strike themselves too hard.
^ Movintjoy to Cecil, April 26, Iris/i Cal. i 40.
® Moantjoy to Cecil, April 25, ibid. i. 38.
70L. I. B B
$70
THE PACIFICATION OF IRELAND. CH. ix.
their consent, bring within their walls any English rebels or
Irish enemies. Mountjoy, of course, refused to be bound by
any such clause as this. Next day he crossed the Suir, and
approached the town. Dr. White came to him to try the effect
of his arguments. The Deputy pushed him with the usual
question, whether it was lawful to take arms against the King
for the sake of religion. On White’s hesitating to answer,
Mountjoy replied in language which now sounds strange in
our ears, but which in those days truly expressed the belief
with which thousands of Englishmen had grown up during the
long struggle with Rome. “ My master,” he said, “ is by right
of descent an absolute King, subject to no prince or power
upon earth, and if it be lawful for his subjects upon any cause
to raise arms against him, and deprive him of his Royal au-
thority, he is not then an absolute King, but hath only pn-
canum imperium. This is our opinion of the Church of
England.”
In the evening the gates were thrown open. Mountjoy
^ ^ . delivered to the, marshal for execution one Fagan,
" I’"'"'" who had been a '■principal fomenter of the disturb-
ances ; but even he "was pardoned at the intercession
of his fellow- townsmen.^ \
Wexford submitted, upon a letterij[^>m the Deputy. ^ Sir
Charles Wilmot, hurrying up to Cmkfroik Kerry, had secured
Disturbance Limerick on his way.^ From Cork alone the news
RtCork. unsatisfactory. On April 28,\the citizens dis-
covered that Wilmot was intending to put a guard over some of
the King’s munitions which were within the city. A tumult
ensued, and the officers in charge of the munitions were put in
prison. The word was given to attack the new fort, which was
still unfinished. Eight hundred men threw themselves upon
the rising walls, and almost succeeded in demolishing the gate-
house before Wilmot had time to interfere. Wilmot, who had
no desire to shed blood, ordered his soldiers not to fire. As
’ Mountjoy and the Irish Council to the Council, May 4 ; Mountjoy
to Cecil, May 5, Irish Cal. i. 48, 53. HarL MSS. 3544.
Mountjoy to Cecil, May 4, Irish Cal, i. 49.
• Wilmot to Carcw, May 7, 1603, ibid, i, 59,
MOUNTJOY AT CORK,
371
soon, however, as the townsmen began firing at them, it was
impossible to restrain them any longer. Discipline asserted'
its power, and the citizens •were driven headlong into the town. *
Wilmot and Thornton threw themselves into the Bishop’s house,
where they awaited the Deputy’s arrival. Whilst there they
were exj^osed to the fire from the guns of the city, but no great
damage was done.
On Mountjoy’s arrival, the city immediately submitted.®
All resistance in this ill-calculated movement was at an end.
Submission The rebels were treated with leniency. Three only
of Cork. Qf leaders were executed by martial law. Mead,
the principal instigator of the rebellion, was reserved for trial.*
If, however, Mountjoy expected that the most convincing
evidence could obtain a conviction from an Irish jury, he
was mistaken. At the trial, which took place at Youghal in the
following December, the prisoner was acquitted. The jurymen
were summoned before the Castle Chamber at Dublin, the
Court which answered to the English Star Chamber, and were
heavily fined. They were forced to appear at the sessions which
were being held at Drogheda with papers round their heads,
which stated that they had been guilty of perjury. This exhi-
bition was to be repeated at the next sessions held at Cork
amongst their friends and neighbours. They were also con-
demned to imprisonment during the pleasure of the Govern-
ment^
His work being thus successfully brought to a conclusion,
Mountjoy received permission to leave his post On his arrival
Mountjoy’s England, he was created Earl of IDevonshire, and
return. admitted to the Privy Council. As a special reward
for his services, he obtained the honorary title of Lord-Lieu-
tenant of Ireland, to which a considemble revenue was attached.
During the few remaining years of his life, he continued to de~
‘ Walley to Carew, May 6, Irish Cal. i. 55. Lady Carew, who was
in the neighbourhood, showed no signs of timidity. She began a letter
to her husband with these words, Here is great wars with Cork, and I
am not afraid,” May 5, 1603, S. JP. Irtl. 54.
Mayor of Cork to Cecil, May 26, Irish Cal, i. 67.
• Ilarl. MSS. 3544. Carey to Cecil, April 26, 1604, Insh Cal. i. 340,
B B 2
372
THE PACIFICATION OF IRELAND, CH. ix.
vote much attention to the affairs of Ireland, and carried on
a constant correspondence with the Deputies who succeeded
him. His last years were not happy. Shortly after his arrival
in England, Lady Rich left her husband, and declared that
Devonshire was the father of her five children. Upon this
Lord Rich obtained a divorce, and on December 26, 1605, sbe
was married to the Earl of Devonshire by his chaplain, 'William
Laud, who was afterwards destined to an unhappy celebrity
in English history. The validity of the marriage was exceed-
ingly doubtful,^ and Devonshire himself only survived it a few
months.
The post of Deputy was at first given to Sir George Carey,
who had held the office of Treasurer-at-War. He, too, was
Sir George anxious to rctum to England, and it is not unlikely that
appomted ^is appointment was only intended to be of a tem-
Deputy. porary nature. One great reform marked the short
term of his office. No sooner was he installed than he pressed
the English Government to put an end to the miseries un-
avoidably connected with the depreciation of the currency. “
At first, half-measures were tried. Orders were given to the
Warden of the Mint to coin shillings which were to be worth
ninepence, whilst their nominal value was to be twelvepence.
I'he old base shillings, which in reality were worth only three-
pence, were expected to pass for fourpence.® Against these
The currency proceedings Carey immediately protested.^ He was
restored. allowcd to liave his way. new Irish shillings
were declared by proclamation to be exchangeable, as they had
originally been, for ninepence of the English standard." It was
not, however, till the autumn of the next year that the base
* The Ecclesiastical Courts only pronounced divorces a mens& et thoro
for adultery, and parties so divorced were prohibited by the 107th Canon
from remarrying. The decree of the Star Chamber in the case of Rye v,
Fuljambe (Moore, 683) was on the same side of the question. On the
other band Parliament had refused to consider such remarriages as felony
([ Jac. L cap. 2).,
- Carey and Irish Council to the Council, June 4, IrM Cal i. yt.
® Proclamation, Oct. Ii, zHI. i. 146.
Carey to Cecil, Oct. 14, ilfid. i. 149.
* Proclamation, Dec. 3, f.W. i. 17a
LORD DEPUTY CHICHESTER, m
money was finally declared to be exchangeable at no more than
its true value. *
At last Carey obtained the object of his wishes. In July
t6o 4, leave of absence was granted him, which was followed, in
October, by his permanent recall.^
The man who was selected to succeed him was Sir Arthur
Chichester. A better choice could not have been made. He
. . possessed that most useful of all gifts for one who is
cr ^ men— the tact which enabled
ai Careys hiin to 366 at oncc the limits which were imposed
su.oessor, cxecutiou of his most cherished schemes,
by the character and prejudices of those with whom he had to
deal. In addition to his great practical ability, he was supported
by an energy which was sufficient to carry him through even
the entangled w^eb of Irish politics. Whatever work was set
before him, he threw his whole soul into it. He would have
been as ready, at his Sovereign’s command, to guard an outpost
as to rule an empire. He had already distinguished himself in
the war which had just been brought to a conclusion. At an
earlier period of his life, he had commanded a ship in the great
battle with the Armada, and had served under Drake in hiis
last voyage to the Indies. He took part in the expedition to
Cadiz, and had served in France, where he received the honour
of knighthood from the hands of Henry IV. Shortly after-
wards, when he was in command of a company in the garrison
of Ostend, Elizabeth, at Cecil’s recommendation, gave him an
appointment in Ireland, Mountjoy, who knew his worth, made
him Major-General of the Army, and gave him the governorship
of Carrickfergus, from whence he was able to keep in sub-
mission the whole of the surrounding country. The King’s
letter,® appointing Chichester to the vacant office, was dated on
October 15, 1604. Stormy weather detained the bearer of his
^ Note in Cecil's hand to the ‘ Memorials for Ireland,’ Aug. 20, 1604,
S. P. If el. 324.
" The King to Carey, July 16. The King to Carey and the Irish
Council, Oct. 15, Irish Cal. i. 295, 361.
* Account of Sir A. ChichesteTf by Sir Faithful Fortescue. Printed
for private circulation, 1858.
374
THE PACIFICATION OF IRELAND. CH. ix.
commission at Holyhead for many weeks, and it was not till
February 3 that the new Deputy received the sword
of office,^
Hopeless as the condition of the country might seem
to a superficial observer, Chichester saw its capabilities, and
felt confidence in his own powers of developing them. He
perceived at once the importance of the task. It was absurd
folly, he wrote a few months later, to run over the world in
search of colonies in Virginia or Guiana, whilst Ireland was
lying desolate. The reformation and civilisation of such a
country would, in his opinion, be a greater honour for the King
than if he could lead his armies across the Channel and could
reduce the whole of France to subjection.^
The difficulties under which Ireland laboured were social
rather than political. The institutions under which a large part
„ . , of the soil was held in Ireland were those under
Social con- , . , , - , , ,
dition of which the greater part of the earth has at one time
Th^ of possessed. When a new tribe takes
iande7° possession of an uninhabited region, they generally
property. ^Q^sider the land which they acquire as the property
of the tribe. Private property in the soil is at first unknown.
A considerable part of the population support themselves by
means of the cattle which wander freely over the common pas-
ture-land of the tribe, and those who betake themselves to
agriculture have no difficulty in finding unoccupied land to
plough. As long as land is plentiful, it is more advantageous
to the agriculturist to be freed from the burdens of ownership.
When the soil has become exhausted by a few harvests, it suits
him better to move on, and to make trial of a virgin soil. As
population increases, the amount of land available for cultiva-
tion diminishes. To meet the growing demand, improved
methods of agriculture are necessary, which can only be put in
practice where the land has passed into private ownership.
In a large part of Ireland this change had not yet thoroughly
taken place. No doubt the chiefs, and other personages
' Eingley to Cranborne, Jan. 9, 1605, Irish Cal. i. 412 ; Harl. MSS.
3544 ;
2 Chichester to Salisbury, Oct. 2, 1605, Jnsh Cal, I 545.
i6o5
IRISH TENURES.
375
favoured by the chiefs, held land with full proprietary rights.
But the bulk of the lands were held under a form of territorial
The ir h communism, which was known to English lawyers
ciis.confof by the ill-chosen name of the Irish custom of gavel-
gaveikmd. Upou the death of any holder of land, the
chief of the sept was empowered, not merely to divide the in-
heritance equally amongst his sons, as in the English custom of
gavelkind, but to make a fresh division of the lands of the
whole tribe. Such a custom excited the astonishment of
English lawyers, and has ever since caused great perplexity to
all who have attempted to 'account for it In all probability, it
was but seldom put in practice. The anarchy which prevailed
must have stood in the way of any appreciable increase of the
population, and when land was plentiful, the temptation to avail
themselves of the custom can hardly ever have presented itself
to the members of the sept Meanwhile the tradition of its
existence kept up the memory of the principle that land belonged
to the sept, and not to the individuals who composed it
When, therefore, the judges pronounced that the custom
was barbarous and absurd, and contrary to the common law of
It is con England,^ which was now declared to be law over
ciemned by the wholc of Ireland, they put the finishing stroke to
the judges. ^ system which the Irish were attached to by ties
of habit, though it is possible that by judicious treatment they
might have been easily persuaded to abandon it.
Such a change, indeed, rooted as the old system was in the
habits of the people, required the utmost delicacy of treatrnent
The septs difficulty which Chichester was called upon to
and the Confront was considerably increased by the connec-
chiefs. which existed between the tenure of land and
the political institutions of the septs. Originally, no doubt, the’
power of the chief was extremely limited ; but limited as it
might be, it was necessary that he should be a man of full age,
in order to preside over the assembly of the sept and to lead
its forces in the field. In Ireland, as in other parts of the
woild, an attachment was formed in each tribe to one family j
^ Davies^ Reports. Hil. 3 J ac.
376
THE PACIFICATION OF IRELAND, ch. ix.
but, a strictly hereditary succession being impossible, it became
the custom to elect as successor to the chief, the one amongst hi^
relatives who appeared best qualified to fulfil the functions of
the office. The relative thus designated was called the Tanist.
The chief had originally been nothing more than the represen-
tative of the sept. In process of time he became its master.
The active and daring gathered round him, and formed his
body-guard. The condition of the Irish peasant, like that of
the English peasant before the Norman Conquest, grew worse
and worse. At the beginning of the seventeenth century, he
still held the theory that the land belonged to the cultivator,
little, however, of the small amount of w’^ealth which Irishmen
possessed consisted of cultivated land. Herds of cattle roamed
over the wide pasture-lands of the tribe, and when land was
worthless cattle were valuable. In time of war they fell into the
hands of the chief who captured them, and these he delivered
out to those whom he might favour. Those who received
them, who ‘ took stock ’ of him, as the phrase w'ent, w'ere bound
to him as a vassal in feudal Europe •was bound to his lord.
They were under obligation to support his cause, and to pay
him a certain rent in cattle or money. In law, the chief had
no right to anything more than to certain fixed payments. In
practice everthing depended upon the mere will of the chief .
and his arbitrary exactions appeared even in the guise of settled
customs, and obtained regular names of their own. Under the
name of coigne and livery, the chief might demand from the
occupier of the land support for as many men and horses as he
chose to bring with him. But, oppressive as such a custom was,
it w’as as nothing to the unrecognised abuses which w^ere con-
tinually occurring. Under such a condition of things, it was
impossible for any salutary change in the tenure of land to be
effected. If the cultivators were to obtain any fixed interest in
the soil, it was necessary that the chiefs should obtain a similar
interest. They must cease to be chiefs, and they must become
landowners. As such, they must be led to take an interest in
their estates, which they could not feel as long as they only
held them for life. In other words, the custom of Tanistry
must be riiolished.
1 60S FREEHOLDERS TO BE ESTABLISHED. 377
The English Government had long been alive to the im-
portance of the alteration required. In 1570 an Act had been
The Govern- passed, establishing a form by which Irish lords might
surrender their lands, and recei^'e them back to be
tanistry, Under English tenure. In many cases this per-
mission had been acted upon. In other cases lands forfeited
by rebellion had been regranted, either to English colonists or
to loyal Irishmen. In every case the grants were made only
upon condition that the new lord of the soil should assign free-
holds to a certain number of cultivators, reserving to himself a
stipulated rent. By this transaction each party profited. The
new lord of the manor lost, indeed, with his independent
position, the privilege of robbing his followers at pleasure ; but,
under the old system, the property of his followers must have
been extremely small, and, with the increasing influence of the
English Government, his chances of being able to carry out
that system much longer were greatly diminished. In return
for these concessions, he gained a certainty of possession, both
over the rents, which would now be paid with regularity, and
over the large domains which were left in his own hands, and
which would become more valuable with the growing improve-
ment in the condition of the surrounding population. Above
all, he would be able to leave his property to his children.
I'he new freeholders would gain in every way by the conversion
of an uncertain into a secure tenure. The weak point in the
arrangement lay in the omission to give proprietary rights to
every member of the sept, so as to compensate for his share of
the tribal ownership, of which he was deprived. The precau-
tion of building up a new system on the foundations of the old,
was precisely that saving virtue which the men of the seven-
teenth century were likely to neglect.
It was indeed with no ill-will to the natives that the English
Government was animated.- ' Even those who set in motion the
„ , rule of the Council-table and the Castle Chamber
•ina to ex-
tend the were by no means desirous to extend unnecessarily
theLngfsh the functious of the central Government. They
Constitution. Ireland should become the sister of
England, not her servant. The two countries were to be one,
378 THE PACIFICATION OF IRELAND. CH. ix.
as England and Wales were one, as it was hoped that, one day,
England and Scotland would be one. They were ready enough
to deal harshly with factious Parliaments, and to fine perjured
juries ; but they did not imagine it possible to civilise the
country without all the machinery of freedom in the midst of
which they had themselves grown up. The moment that they
saw any prospect of converting the wandering Irish into settled
proprietors, they were anxious to put the whole ordinary ad-
ministration of the country into their hands. The new free-
holders were to furnish jurymen, justices of the peace, and
members of Parliament. If they were called upon to perform
functions for which they were hardly fitted, at all events the
mistake was one upon the right side.
During the reign of Elizabeth, in spite of many errors, con-
siderable progress had been made. When Chichester entered
upon his office, the greater part of .Leinster was in
a Settled and orderly condition. In the spring of
Elizabeth, assizes had been held in different parts of the
province, and it was found that the gentlemen and freeholders
were able to despatch business as well as persons of the same
Condition of Condition in England.^ But even in Leinster there
Leinster, exceptioHs to the general tranquillity. The
counties of Carlow' and Wexford were overawed by a band of
eighty or a hundred armed men, who found hiding-places for
themselves and a market for their plunder amongst the
Cavanaghs and the Byrnes, d'he latter sept, with that of the
Tooles, still possessed, after the Irish fashion, the hilly country
which is now known as the county of Wicldow, but which at
that time had not yet been made shire-ground.
In Munster there had been, during the late reign, great
changes in the ownership of the land. ' Many of the Irish
wf Munster uprooted, and had given way either
to English colonists, or to Irishmen who owed their
position to the success of the English arms. Carew had been
succeeded, as President, by Sir Henry Brouncker, a man of
‘ Davies to Cecil, April 19, 1604, Irish Cal. i 236. He adds, “The
prisons were not very full, -and yet the crimes whereof the prisoners stood
accused were for the most part but petty thefts.”
CONDITION OF THE COUNTRY.
vigoui, who, though at times apt unnecessarily to provoke
opposition, succeeded in maintaining good order in the
province. •
Connaught was, fortunately, in the hands of a nobleman
who, like the Earl of Thomond in Clare, was wise enough to
of Con- see where the true interests of himself and of his
naught, country lay. The Earl of Clanricarde was the
descendant of the Norman family of the Burkes or ihz De
Burghs, which had been counted during the Middle Ages
amongst the degenerate English. At an early age he had
attached himself to the Government, and had remained con-
stant during the years when the tide of rebellion swept over
his patrimony, and seemed to offer him the fairest prospect of
obtaining an independent sovereignty. He was now invested
with the office of President of his own province. He exercised
the wEole civil and military authority in Connaught, but in the
spirit of a dependent prince rather than in that of a subordinate
officer. The Deputy was contented to know that things were
going on well in that distant province, and prudently refrained
from exercising a constant supervision over the acts of the
President.
If Chichester could look upon the condition of Connaught
with complacency, it was far otherwise with regard to Ulster.
It was difficult to say how civilisation was to be in-
of Ulster. into the northern province as long as bar-
barism was under the protection of the two great houses of the
The O’Neills and the O’Donnells. The head of the
O'Neills. O’Neills, the Earl of Tyrone, had submitted on con-
dition of receiving back his lands, with the exception of certair^
portions which were to be held by two of his kinsmen. ^ The
The O’Don- O’Donnell had died in exile, and his lordship
neiis. Qf Tyrconnell w'as disputed between his brother Rory
and Neill Garve O’Donnell, a more distant relative. The latter
had taken the title of The O’Donnell, which was looked upon
os a sign of defection from the English Crown. The progress
‘ Henry Oge O’Neill and Tirlogh McHenry, Note by Mountjoy;
April 8, 1603, Irish Cal. i. 16. Three hundred acres were also reserved
for the fort at Charlemont, and the same quantity fur the fort of Mountjoy.
THE PACIFICATION OF IRELAND. CH. ix.
380
of the war, however, made it plain that it would be impossible
for either of the kinsmen to maintain himself without English
aid. Upon Tyrone’s submission, the competitors hastened to
seek the favour of the Government.^ Moiintjoy at once
decided in favour of Rory. Not only was he the heir to the
lordship, according to English notions, but the character of his
rival was not such as to prepossess the Deputy in his favour.
Neill Garve was violent and ambitious, and was not likely to
prove a submissive subject.*^ He was, however, indemnified
by the grant of a large extent of land in the neighbourhood of
lifford, which had formerly belonged to the chief of the sept,
but which was henceforth to be held directly of the Crown.
Rory O’Donnell received the remainder of the territory of his
predecessor, having agreed to give up any land which might be
needed by the Government for the support of garrisons. When
Mountjoy returned to England, he took the two chiefs with him.
They were well received by James, by whom O’Donnell was
created Earl of Tyrconnell, and they both returned with the
full assurance that the Deputy’s promises should be fulfilled.
During their absence, the Chief Baron, Sir Edward Pelham,
went on circuit through Ulster. It was the first time that an
1603. English judge had been seen in the North, or that
a?cu?S peasantry had ever had an opportunity of look-
uister. ing upon the face of English justice. The results
were, on the whole, satisfactory. He reported that he had
never, even in the more settled districts near the capital, been
welcomed by a greater concourse of people. He found that
‘the multitude, that had been subject to oppression and misery,
did reverence him as he had been a good angel sent from
heaven, and prayed him upon their knees to return again to
minister justice unto them,’ When, however, he came to apply
to the more powerful inhabitants, he found that the fear of
Tyrone was still weighing heavily upon them. It was in vain
that he pressed them to allow him to enrol them in the com-
missiem of the peace. They told him that it was impossible for
them to take such a step without the permission of their chief,®
' Doewra to Mountjoy, April 8, 1603, Irish CaL i. 20.
* Mountjoy to Cecil, April 25, 1603, ibid. I 38.
• Davies to Cecil, Dec. i, 1603, ibid, i. 169.
CONDITION OF ULSTER,
381
The position which was occupied by the two earls could
not long continue. They were not strong enough to be in-
Position of dependent, and they were too proud to be subjec ts.
?po?thar ^ question of time when the inevitable
return. quarrel between them and the Government would
break out. When Tyrone returned from England, he found
that the cultivators of the land would no longer submit to the
treatment which they had borne in silence for so many years.
As soon as he attempted to lenew his old extortions, a num-
ber of them fled for refuge to the protection of the
The^Govern- English Government Upon hearing what had hap-
toTurrSS pened, he demanded their surrender. He was told
Tyrone’s that they were not his bondmen or villains, but the
King’s free subjects.^ It was by his own choice that
he held back from holding his land by English tenure, and
giving himself fixed rights over his tenants. He must take
the consequences if they refused to submit to his irregular and
exorbitant demands.
Another question between the great Earl and the Govern-
ment arose from his refusal to allow the appointment of a
He declines sheriff in his county, as he justly regarded such a
iheSn^ measure as the first step towards superseding his own
Tyrone. rulc by regular justice. At the same tinae, it must
be allowed that he showed some activity in repressing thieves*-
He even went so far as to hang a nephew of his own.*
In Donegal, Neill Garve was still master of the whole
Neill Garve county in the spring of 1604. The new earl was
in Donegal, quiet within the Pale, ‘very meanly followed.’
Fermanagh, open war was raging between two of
i-ermanagh. Maguires, who werc equally discontented with
the share of land which had lately been allotted to them.
The military force upon which Chichester could rely was
not large. Ireland was a heavy drain upon the English
The army In Treasury, and, with peace, the army had been con-
iiehnd. siderably reduced. I'he proportions in which these
troops were allotted to the different provinces, show
’ Davies to Cecil, April 19, 1604, Irish Cal. i. 236.
3 Chichester to Cecil, Jine 8, 1604, ibid. *. 279.
THE PACIFICATION OF IRELAND, CH. ix.
where the real danger lay. The whole army consisted of three
thousand seven hundred foot, and two hundred and twenty-
nine horse. Of the infantry, five hundred men were sufficient
to guard Connaught. Munster was held by nine hundred
Six hundred kept order in the neighbourhood of Dublin, and
in the south of Leinster. Four hundred lay in Derry, and
thirteen hundred were posted in the long line of forts by which
Ulster was girdled round from Carrickfergus on St. George’s
Channel, to Ballyshannon on the Atlantic.^ By these garrisons
the North of Ireland was held as in a vice.
In carrying out his plans Chichester had the assistance of a
council, composed of persons who had long served the Crown,
' either in a civil or in a military capacity. They were
The Council. industrious in the fulfilment of their
duties ; but none of them were men who rose above the level of
an intelligent mediocrity. The only man of real ability, upon
whom he could rely, was the new Solicitor-General, Sir John
Sir John Davies. He had arrived in Ireland towards the end
Dawes. Qf ^ jjad at once thrown himself energetically
into the work of civilising the country. His honesty of purpose
was undoubted, and his great powers of observation enabled
him at once to master the difficulties which were before him.
The most graphic accounts which we possess of Ireland during
the time of his residence in the country are to be found in his
correspondence. He was indefatigable in his exertions. Far
more than any of the more highly-placed law officers, he con-
tributed to the decisions which were taken upon the legal and
political questions which were constantly arising. Unhappily,
his great powers were seriously impaired by one considerable
defect : to a great knowledge of institutions he joined a pro-
found ignorance of human nature. With him it was enough
that he had the law upon his side, if he was sure that the law
when carried out would be attended with beneficial conse-
quences. It never occurred to him to consider the weaknesses
and feelings of men, or to remember that justice is a greater
gainer when a smaller measure of reform is willingly accepted,
1 List of the Army, Oct, i, 1604, /ns^ CH. i. 353, Another state*
roent of the same date gives rather higher numbers.
i6o4 a disarmament ORDERED, 383
than when a larger improvement is imposed by force. He w^as
capable of becoming an excellent instrument in the hands of
such a man as Chichester ; but it might safely be predicted
that if ever he should be able to induce the English Govern
ment to adopt a policy of his own, the most disastrous conse-
quences would ensue.
Chichester had taken formal possession of his office on
February 3, 1605. On the 20th he notified, by the issue of
^^05- two proclamations, that the Deputy’s sword had not
fallen into sluggish hands.* The first began by re-
citing the abuses committed by the Commissioners
for executing Martial Law, and by revoking the
dtsarma- greater number of such commissions. The other
proclamation was of far greater importance. Carey
had issued an order for a general disarmament, by which
alone it would be possible to maintain peace for any length of
time. He had ordered that persons travelling on horseback
should carry nothing more than a single sword, and that
persons travelling on foot should carry no arms at all. But
Carey had allowed his directions to remain a dead letter, ex-
cepting in Connaught where cney had been enforced by Clan-
nckard.^ Chichester now repeated these directions, and
ordered that all who contravened them should be imprisoned,
and their arms brought to the commander of the nearest fort.
In order to interest the ' commanders in the seizure, it was
added that they should be rewarded with half the value of the
confiscated arms. Exceptions were made in favour of gentlemen
of the Pale and their servants, of merchants following their
trade, of known householders within the Pale, and, finally,
of any loyal subject who might receive special permission to
carry arms.
March ir. These proclamations were shortly followed by
an ^^lother Setting forth the principles upon which the
nmiitsty, government was to be carried on.*
Full pardon was at once granted for all acts committed
’ Proclfimations, Feb. 20, 1605, InsA Caf. i. 433, 434
- Davies to Cecil, April 19, 1^4, ilnd, i, 236,
* Proclamation, March il, 1605, i. 44S.
3^4
THE PACIFICATION OF IRELAND. ch. ix
against the Government before the King’s accession. I'he
officers of the Government through whom the pardons passed
were forbidden to extort anything beyond the regular fees.^
No complaints of robberies or outrages committed before
November i, 1602, were to be listened to. The proclamation
then turned to lay down, in plain and strong language, the
policy of the Government towards the mass of the
tection to population. The Deputy promised to receive all
the poor. persons under the King’s protection, ‘ to defend
them and theirs from the injuries, oppressions, and unlawful
exactions of the chief lords and gentlemen of the several
counties wherein they dwell, as also of and from the extortion
and violence of all sheriffs, escheators, purveyors, and all other
officers, ministers, and persons whatsoever which have, or pre-
tend to have, any jurisdiction, authority, or power over them ;
and that as they are all His Highness’ natural subjects, so will
His Majesty have an equal respect towards them all, and
govern them all by one indifferent law, without respect of
persons.’
Coming to particulars, the proclamation then noted several
abuses which prevailed. Since the rebellion, many lords and
Tenants to gentlemen had received grants of their lands, to be
StheTr fuif English tenure. The patents were full of
nghts. long phrases, as is usually the case with legal docu-
ments. These phrases had been interpreted by the landowners
as giving them full power over their dependents. They proceeded
to treat men whose ancestors had, as members of the sept, held
land for generations, as if they were now no more than mere
tenants-at-will. Another grievance was that the lords who re-
ceived their lands back after losing them by attainder, not find >
ing their tenants mentioned by name in the patents, pretended
that the attainder included the tenants, whilst the pardon did
not contain any reference to them at all. They inferred from
this, that they were still affected by the attainder, and that their
estates were now, by the new grant, vested in their lords. The
Deputy declared these interpretations to be contrary to the in-
^ A shiliing in the case of a gentleman, and sixpence fi'orii any other
person.
THE TENANTS TO BE PROTECTED, 3S5
fe.ntion of the grants. He also adverted to the arbitrary exac-
Arbitia which were levied, under various high-sounding
exactions nanies, by the Irish lords. He declared that they
to cease. nothing better than an organised system of
robbery. He told the lords that these proceedings were illegal,
and he enjoined upon them to let their lands at fixed rents.
Another source of complaint was that the lords still retained
powers in their hands which were inconsistent with the estab-
None but lishment of a settled government. It was therefore
the legal ^ Hccessary to inform them that they were no longer to
to be have the power of arresting their tenants for debt, or
permitted. ^ Other cause, unless they were provided with
a lawful warrant issued by the ordinary ministers of justice.
They were not to levy fines on their tenants, excepting in such
ways as the law allowed, nor to remove their tenants from one
place to another against their will, nor to treat them otherwise
than as freemen.
The proclamation then proceeded to sum up the whole
substance of the English policy in the following words : — ^ To
, the end the said poor tenants and inhabitants, and
are immedi- every ’ one ‘ of them, may from henceforth know
of® :S * and understand that free estate and condition wherein
Crown. born, and wherein from henceforth they
shall all be continued and maintained, we do by this present
proclamation, in His Majesty’s name, declare and publish, that
they and every ’ one ‘ of them, their wives and children, are
the free, natural, and immediate subjects of His Majesty, and
are not to be reputed or called the natives,^ or natural followers
of any other lord or chieftain w'hatsoever, and that they, and
every ’ one ‘ of them, ought to depend wholly and immediately
upon His Majesty, who is both able and willing to protect them,
and not upon any other inferior lord or lords, and that they
may and shall from henceforth rest assured that no person or
persons whatsoever, by reason of any chiefry or seignory, or
by colour of any custom, use, or prescription, hath, or ought to
have, any interest in the bodies or goods of them, or any of
VOh. I.
* /./. serfs.
C C
586
THE PACIFICATION OF IRELAND. ch. ix,
; and that all power and authority which the said lords
of counties may lawfully claim or challenge is not belonging to
their lordships, chiefries, or seignories, but is altogether derived
from His Majesty’s grace and bounty, whereby divers of the
said lords have received, and do enjoy, their lands, lives, and
honours ; and that His Majesty, both can and will, whensoever
it seem good to his princely wisdom, make the meanest of his
said subjects, if he shall deserve, it by his loyalty and virtue, as
great and mighty a person as the best and chiefest among the
said lords. Howbeit we do, in His Majesty’s name, declare
and publish unto all and every the said tenants, or other in-
ferior subjects, that it is not His Majesty’s intent or meaning
to protect or maintain them, or any of them, in any mis-
demeanour or insolent carriage towards their lords, but that it
is His Majesty’s express pleasure and commandment, that the
said tenants and meaner sort of subjects, saving their faith and
duty of allegiance to His Majesty, shall yield and perform all
such respects and duties as belong and appertain unto the^
said lords, according to their several degrees and callings, due
and allowed unto them by the laws of the realm.’ ^
The Deputy knew well that mere words were not sufficient
_ . , to carry out the noble policy which he had so deeply
CH>chester tt j* i • j • ^ ^
jjjes into at heart He accordingly determined to go m person
into Ulster, accompanied by the Council and by some
of the judges.
His pro Armagh, he persuaded O’Hanlon, who was the
ceedings at chieftain in that part' of the country, to surrender his
Armagh, receive it under English tenure, upon
condition of making freeholders.
^ In a Memorial in the Cott. MSS. Tit. vii. 59, Chichester attributes
to himself the suggestion of this proclamation. He had, however, obtained
the King’s consent before publishing it (see Chichester to Cranborne, March
12, Irish Cal. i. 450). Captain Philipps, in a letter to Salisbuiy (May 19,
ibid. i. 480), says that he published it in Antrim. “The people will
not endure any more wrongs of their chieftains and lord.s, but do pm*
sently search for redress, which they before durst never do, but were as
bondmen. ... As soon as I had the proclamation read among them there
were many which complained against their chieftains and lords.”
CHICHESTER IN ULSTER.
387
1605
At Dungannon, he succeeded in inducing Tyrone to create
his younger sons freeholders. He was soon besieged with
at Dnxi- petitions from the gentlemen of the county, request-
gann-in, Settle thcir differences with the earl. They
dei ired to have their property completely in their own hands,
and asserted that they had been freeholders beyond the
memory of man. Tyrone, who took a different view of Irish
tenure, declared that the whole country belonged to him.
Chichester, perhaps to avoid giving offence to either party, told
them that he had no time to consider the question then, but
took care to order that the land should remain in the possession
of the occupiers until his decision was given. From Dun-
gannon he passed on to Lifford, where he persuaded
the Earl of Tyrconnell and Neill Garve to submit
their claims to his arbitration. To Neill Garve he assigned
land to the extent of nearly thirteen thousand acres ; the rest
of the county was awarded to the ear! One exception was
made. The Deputy was particularly struck with the situation
of Lifford, and reserved it, not without giving umbrage to
Tyrconnell,^ for the purpose of establishing a colony there.
The colony was to be composed of English and Scotch, and
was to have attached to it a sufficient quantity of land to sup-
port the settlers, in order that they might not be dependent
upon trade. Chichester was also successful in persuading
Tyrconnell to create freeholders on his lands. Sir Cahir
O’Dogherty, the mo.st important of the lords dependent upon
the earl, consented to adopt the same course in his own country
in the peninsula of Innishowen.
Besides the use which he made of his time in gaining over
He inspects North to accept the new order
the fortifica- of things, the Deputy w^as active in inspecting the
condition of the fortifications at the different forts,
and in holding assizes at the chief towns through which he
passed.
Upon his return, Chichester sent a detailed report of his
proceedings to the Government He considered that he had
* Tyrconnell to Salisbury [Sept. 30], Irish CaL i. 539.
cc a
588 THE PACIFICATION OF IRELAND. CH. ix.
made some way, though he had not accomplished all that he
could wish.^ A few days later, the dark side of the
His report , , ...
to the Go- picture seems to have been uppermost in his mind,
verniuent. difficulties was that of obtaining per-
sons sufficiently independent to be fit for the office of justice of
the peace. No Irishman could, as yet, be expected to maintain
equal justice between rich and poor, and the Englishmen who
were at his disposal were, on account of the smallness of their
pay, liable to the temptation of bribery. The remedy that
occurred to him was the introduction of English and Scotch
colonists. The abbey lands, still in the King’s hands in Ulster,
' would put it into his power to introduce them without confis-
cating the property of a single Irishman.^
On his return to Dublin, Chichester found his attention
called to a very different subject. During the greater part of
Practical attempt had been made to compel
^deration the Irish Catholics to attend the Protestant service.
** There was indeed an Act in existence by which a
fine of one shilling was imposed for every time of
absence from church, but the impossibility of enforcing it over
the greater part of the country, and the imprudence of making
fresh enemies where it could have been imposed with less
difficulty, had prevented the Government from taking any steps
to put the law in force. In 1599, however, an attempt was
made to enforce the fine, but the design was soon given up,
greatly to the annoyance of the youthful Usher, who predicted
that God’s judgments would fall upon a country w'here Popery
was allowed to exist unchecked.^ But with the submission of
^ Chichester and the Irish Council to the Council, Sept. 30, Iris/i Cal.
I 538.
Chichester to Salisbury, Oct. 2 and 4, i^id. i. 545, 548.
® In preaching from Ezek. i. 6, he applied the fi^rty years which are
there spoken of to Treland. ‘ From this year,’ he .said, ‘ will I reckon the
sin of Ireland, that those whom you now embrace shall be your ruin, and
you shall bear their iniquity.’ It has been generally .supposed that these
words were spoken in 1601, and they have been considered to have been
a prediction of the Rebellion of 1641 ; but Dr. Elrington has shown that
the sermon cannot have been pieiichcd earlier than the end of 1602. —
Usher’s Works (1847), i. 23,
l6o5
CHICHESTER IN ULSTER.
3S9
the whole island, a temptation was offered to those in power to
avail themselves of the means which were in their hands to
enforce attendance upon the services. They had a strong
feeling of the benefits which would result if the Irish coaid be
induced to accept the religion under which England had grown
in moral stature, and they had no idea of the evils which
attended the promulgation of truth itself by the strong hand of
power.
The strength of the old faith lay chiefly with the upper
classes of the principal towns, and with the inhabitants of the
Religious civilised country districts. All those who w^ould
condition of under a less centralised government have taken mrt
Ireland. . 1 • • • r rr- -1 1 t
in the administration of affairs, clung to the tenets or
their ancestors as a symbol of resistance to foreign domination.
In the wilder parts of the country that domination was rapidly
becoming a blessing to the mass of the population, w'hich was
only loosely attached to any religious system at all ; yet it may
w'ell be doubted w^hether the impressionable Irish Celt would
ever have been brought to content himself with the sober re-
ligious forms which have proved too sober for considerable
bodies of Englishmen.
Such a doubt w^as not likely to make itself heard at the
beginning of the seventeenth century. Shortly after the acces-
sion of James, rumours reached Ireland that he in-
tended to grant a general toleration. The Archbishop
anxious to of Dublin and the Bishop of Meath immediately
RecuSney WTOte to the King, protesting against such a measure,
and entreating him to put some check upon the
priests, to send over good preachers, and to compel the people
to come to church.^
James, who, at the beginning of his reign, had suspended
the action of the Recusancy laws in England, took no notice of
the first and last of these requests, but signified his
intention of planting a learned ministry in Ireland-
church. It was Certainly time that something should be done.
Excepting in the towns, scarcely anything worthy of the name
' The Archbishop of Dublin and the Bishop of Meath to the King,
June 4, 1603, Irish Cal. i. 70,
390
THE PACIFICATION OF IRELAND, CH. ix.
of a church existed, and in the towns the preachers almost
universally failed in obtaining even ? hearing.^ In the country
the condition of the Church was deplorable. It was generally
believed that the majority of the clergy were unable even to
read. During the times of anarchy, the livings had fallen into
an evil plight. It frequently happened that the patrons took
possession of a large part of the income of the benefice, whilst
they nominated, for form’s sake, some illiterate person to the
vacant post. This nominee usually agreed before his institution
that he would be content with a mere fraction of his nominal
income. Cases were known in which grooms and horse-boys
held two or three benefices a-piece. Nor was this the worst.
Even bishops, who should have stemmed the tide of corruption,
took part in it themselves. Foremost in the ranks of these
episcopal pluralists stood the Archbishop of Cashel. In ad-
dition to his archiepiscopal see, he held three bishoprics and
seventy-seven other benefices. The infamous sale of promo-
tions which took place in his diocese became afterwards the
subject of a special inquiry. Hundreds of churches were lying
in ruins over the whole of Ireland. In hundreds of parishes
no divine service was ever celebrated, no sacrament adminis-
tered, no Christian assemblies held of any kind. Here and
there, to the disgust of the Government, a few benefices were
in the hands of Jesuits, and the Papal Nuncio obtained an
annual income of forty or fifty pounds from a living which he
held within the Pale,^ But these were exceptions. As a rule,
heathenism would have settled dowm over the whole face of the
country if it had not been for the ministrations of the Catholic
priests.
On his way to the North in the course of his first progress,
Chichester found the Cathedral at Armagh in ruins.
i?iJeedings dignitarics of various kinds, but all of
at Armagh, them had received ordination from the Church of
Rome, and held their posts in virtue of commissions from the
^ The Archbishop of Dublin and the Bishop of Meath to the Council,
March 5, 1604, Irish Cal. i. 223.
- Davies to Cecil, February 20, 1604. Justice Saxey’s Discourse
[1604], ibid, i. 213, 397.
i6o5 treatment of the IRISH recusants. 391
Pope. They refused to use the English service. There was
attached to the church a college for twelve vicars choral, en-
dowed with tithes, but its revenues had been confiscated by the
dean without any lawful authority. It happened that the Arch-
bishop, who rarely visited his diocese, was in the Deputy's
company. Chichester ordered him to provide a minister for
the place, and directed that he should himself reside in Armagh
for at least three or four months in the year. The tithes which
had been so scandalously embezzled were, for the present, to
be employed in maintaining poor scholars at the College in
Dublin, till a sufficient number of educated men were provided
for the service of the Church,
As soon as he had reached Dublin, the Deputy found that
James had determined to make an attempt to drive the re-
Prodama- <^^sants to chuTch, On July 4, a proclamation had
tionto^en- been issued by the King himself, commanding all
Pecusancy persons in Ireland to repair to their several churches,
and directing that all priests who remained in the
country after December 10 should be banished.^ Directions
were also given, that all the judges w^re to attend the Protestant
services.
The Deputy, whose ideas on religious liberty were like those
of the mass of his contemporaries, prepared to carry out his
g.^j instructions. He sent for Sir John Everard, the
Kverkrd only onc of the judges who refused to conform, and
from the entreated him to give way, offering to allow him as
Bench. niuch time for consideration as he wished for. After
the lapse of a year, as he still refused to comply, he was finally
removed from his post^
Against the recusants in general, the Deputy was furnished
with fewer weapons than those which were at the disposal of
Difficulty in Government in England. No Irish Act of Par-
with liament existed which authorised the exaction of more
recusants than a shilling for every absence from church. Un-
happily an idea occurred, either to Chichester or to some of his
^ Proclamation, Irhh Cal. i. 513.
- Chichester and the Irish Council to the Council, Oct. 5. Davies to
Salisbury, Dec. 5, ito6, ibid. i. 554, ii. 69.
392 THE PACIFICATION OF IRELxlND. CH. ix,
advisers,^ by which he hoped to be able to supplement the
deficiency of the law. The elastic powers of the Castle Cham-
ber might be stretched to cover a less urgent case. Chichester
had set his heart upon the improvement of Ireland, and he was
firmly convinced that, without the spread of Protestantism, all
his efforts would be in vain, and he was too much in earnest to
wait for the operation of time. The shilling fine indeed might
drive the poor into submission, but it was ridiculous to expect
that it would have much effect upon a wealthy merchant or
shopkeeper. It was therefore necessary that stronger measures
should at once be taken.
' In the course of the month of October, the aldermen and
several of the chief citizens of Dublin w^ere summoned before
The Alder- Council. The Deputy distinctly disclaimed any
SSShn desire to force their consciences. To change the
S?end faith of any person was the work of God alone. But
churtb. the matter now before them was not a question of
conscience at all. He merely asked them to sit in a certain
place for a certain time. They were only required to listen to
a sermon. They need not profess assent to the doctrines
which they heard. It was a mere question of obedience to the
law.
It was all in vain. With one voice they told the Deputy
that they could not with a clear conscience obey the King in
They refuse, this point.2 Accordingly, on November 13, formal
Smmoned niandates were served upon them, commanding them
to attend church on the following Sunday.® They
Chamber, disobeyed the order, and sixteen of them were sum-
moned before the Castle Chamber on the 22nd. Of the pro-
ceedings on this occasion, all that has come down to us is a
speech delivered by one of the King's Counsel, whose name is
not given. In this speech the claims of the civil power to
obedience were put forward in the most offensive way. After
a long argument in favour of the King’s jurisdiction in
^ Tt was certainly supported by Davies. Davies to Salisbury, Dec. {?),
1605, Fish Cal. i. 603. It looks very like one of his suggestions.
^ Fenton to Salisbury, Oct. 26, ihid. i. 565.
* Mandate, Nov. 13, ibid. i. 573.
f6os RECUSANTS IN THE CASTLE CHAMBER, 393
ecclesiastical matters, the speaker proceeded with the following
extraordinary remarks: — “Can the King,” he asked, “make
bishops, and give episcopal jurisdictions, and cannot he com-
mand the people to obey that authority which himself hath
given ? Can he command the bishop to admit a clerk to a
benefice, and cannot he command his parishioners to come
and hear him ? . . . The King commands a man to take the
order of knighthood. If he refuse it, he shall be fined, for it is
for the service of the commonwealth. Can the King command
a man to serve the commonwealth, and cannot he command
him to serve God ? ” ^
Before the proceedings were brought to a close, Chichester
discovered that they were likely to awaken greater resistance
Petition expected. The principal lords and
presented by gentlemen of the Pale appeared before the Court
the lords and " . , . , . , . , r , •
gentlemen of With a petition lu which, after protesting their
* ^ loyalty, they begged that the execution of the King’s
proclamation might be deferred until they had informed
His Majesty of the injustice to which they were subjected.*
Sentence was pronounced upon nine of those who had been
summoned before the Court. Those of them w^ho were
Sentence of ^ ^ne of One hundred
cimnS^^ pounds ; the others escaped with a payment of half
that sum.® Chichester, who was afraid lest he should
be accused of having set these prosecutions on foot for the
purpose of replenishing the Exchequer, directed that the fines
should be expended upon the repairing of churches and bridges,
and other works of public utility.'^ A few weeks later the
remainder of the sixteen were sentenced to similar fines, with
the exception of one of the aldermen, who promised to come
to church.
' Speech of Council, Nov. 22, JHsh Cal. i. 579.
2 Petition enclosed by Chichester to Salisbury, Dec. 7, 1605,
i- 593-
* Decree of the Castle Chamber, Nov. 22, tltid, i 604. In the course of
the tiial Salisbury’s letter arrived, giving an account of the discovery of
the Gunpowder Plot. Chichester read the letter in the presence of a large
concourse of people who had assembled to watch the proceedings.
* Chichester to Salisbury, Oct. 29, tdtd. 1 567.
^94 the pacification OF IRELAND. CH. ix.
The iuimediate result of these proceedings appeared to be
satisfactory. The parish churches were better attended than
Decs. many years. ^ The Deputy felt
Imprison- himsclf Strong enough to imprison some of those
Sme of the who had been most forward in preparing the petition,
petitioners. asked pardoii were soon set at liberty ;
but one or two, who showed no signs of contrition, were retained
in confinement. Upon this the petitioners forwarded their
complaints to Salisbury. The Castle Chamber, they asserted,
never before had been used as a spiritual consistory.^ Before this
letter could reach England, Sir Patrick Barnwall, who was
believed to have been the contriver of the petition, was sum-
moned before the Council. After a warm altercation with the
Lord Deputy, Barn v\ all was committed to prison. “Well,”
said the prisoner, “ we must endure, as we have endured many
things.” “ What mean you by that ? ” asked Chichester. “ We
have endured,” replied Barnwall, “the late war and other
calamities besides.” The Lord Deputy lost all patience. “ You ! ”
he cried, “endured the misery of the late war? No, sir, we
have endured the misery of the war ; we have lost our blood
and our friends, and have, indeed, endured extreme miseries
to suppress the late rebellion, whereof your priests, for whom
you make petition, and your wicked religion, w'as the principal
cause.” Barnwall was at once ordered off to prison.® It was
an easy way to close a controversy w'hich threatened to be
endless. Ultimately Barnwall was sent to England, to tell his
own story to the Government.
The citizens who had been fined resorted to tactics w'hich
never fail to irritate a Government bent upon carrying out
, Resistance Unpopular measures. On the plea that the Castle
SeS^r^* Chamber had exceeded its jurisdiction, they all
the fines. refused to pay the fines, or to admit into their
houses the officers who came for the purpose of collecting the
money. Orders were given that the doors of tw'o of the mal-
> Chichester and the Irish Council to the Council, Dec. 5, Irish Cal. i. 588.
* Chichester to Salisbury, Dec, 9, ibid. i. 600.
* Davies to Salisbury, Dec., ibid. i. 603.
* Chichester to Salisbury^ April 25, 16^, ibid. i. 709.
i6o5 proceedings against the recusants, 395
contents should be broken open. Next morning all Dublin
was full of stories of the violent proceedings of the officers to
whom this commission had been entrusted. Doors had been
broken open, the privacy of families had been violated, and
women and children had been terrified by this unseemly in-
trusion.
The next step was the empannelment of the jury which
was to value the property to be seized in payment of the
fines. The owners hoped to baffle the Government by mak-
ing all their property over, by deeds of gift, to persons of
their own selection. To make matters more sure, they had
been at the pains to antedate their deeds by six months. In
ordinary times these deeds would at once have been set aside
as fraudulent ; but such was the indignation felt by the whole
city, that the jury gave in a verdict to the effect that no pro-
perty existed which could be touched by the Crown- The
Government had recourse to its usual remedy : both the per-
sons who had given and those wfflo had accepted the deeds of gift
were cited before the Castle Chamber, where the documents
were pronounced to be fraudulent and void, and the fines were
at once levied.
Not content with bringing the richer citizens into court,
Chichester determined to make an attempt, by means of the
shilling fine, to force the poorer inhabitants of Dublin to attend
church. Indictments were accordingly served upon four hun-
dred persons. Of these, one hundred and sixty-nine were not
forthcoming in court. Of the remainder, eighty-eight conformed,
whilst the number of those who refused to submit, and were
sentenced to pay a fine, was one hundred and forty-three.^
In Munster, an attempt was made to carry out similar
measures. In most of the towns, many of the poorer inhabi-
1606. tants were compelled to pay the shilling fine. Ver-
Simiiar thig generally obtained only by
proceedings o ^ j j
in Munster, threatening the jury with the terrors of the Castle
Chamber. The richer citizens w'ere summoned at once before
the President and his Council, and were heavily fined. Some
' Chichester and the Irish Council to the Council, with enclosures,
March 7. Davies to Salisbury, Feb., Irish Cal. i. 648, f.6i.
596 THE PACIFICATION OF IRELAND. ch, jx.
of the members of the Irish Government were in high spirits.
They believed that before long the majority of Irishmen
would be reduced to the Protestant faith. ^
It is plain, too, that Chichester’s experience as a persecutor
was beginning to tell upon him, as experience of this kind will
Chichester’s naturcs SLich US his. Even whilst
opinion on he was engaged in bringing the Dublin citizens before
persecution. . Q^iSth Chamber, he was struck with the state of
feeling prevailing in the city. He had intelligence, by means
of spies, from all parts of Ireland, and he was soon made aware
that his measures, instead of drawing the people to conformity,
had evoked a spirit which would have broken out into open
resistance, if the country had not been completely cowed by
the results of the late war.^ His forces had lately been con-
siderably reduced, and, in the spring of 1606, he was obliged
to provide for keeping order in a large country with less than the
numbers of a single modern regiment.^ Six months later he
began to discover that there were better means of conversion
than those which had been practised in the Castle Chamber.
In June he wrote to the English Council that he .saw little
chance of prevailing with the aged and the wealthy, though he
thought that the young and the poor might yet be w’on. The
best hope of success was to be sought for in the education of
the children.^
In the meanwhile Barnw^all had arrived in London and was
committed to the Tower. On July 3 the English Privy Council
July 3. requested the Irish Government to justify its pro-
ceedings in issuing precepts under the Great Seal to
explanation, compel men to come to church.® The reply ® which
was, after a long delay, sent in the name of the Irish Council is,
’ The Council to Chichester, Jan. 24, Irish Cal. i. 630.
® Chichester to Devonshire, Jan. 2, 1606, ibid. i. 622.
® April X, 1 606. Horse and foot in Ireland, ibid. i. 683. There were
only 880 foot, and 234 horse.
** Chichester to the Council, June 3, ihlL i. 749,
® The Council to Chichester and the Irish Council, July 3, ibid
h 779-
« Chichester and the Irish Council to the Council, Dec. i.
i 6 (^ THE IRISH COUNCIL ON RECUSANCY, 397
perhaps, the most curious monument which exists of the sen-
timents with which the question w^as regarded by men of the
world in that age.
They began by treating the refusal of the aldermen to attend
church as an act of disrespect to the Deputy, and to the
Dec. I, Sovereign whose authority he bore, and argued that.
SnSf anything in attendance upon
Council. Divine w’orship which did not properly come within
the notice of the civil authorities, they had certainly a right to
inflict punishment for disresjiect to the King,
“And if,” they continued, “it should be admitted to be
an ecclesiastical action, by reason that the circumstances are
ecclesiastical, yet the King, being Supreme Head in causes as
well ecclesiastical as civil, his regal power and prerogative do
extend as large as doth his supremacy. And the statute giveth
power to civil magistrates to enquire and punish, so the same
is become temporal, or, at least, mixed, and not merely
spiritual.”
With this unlimited belief in the pow'er of an Act of Parlia-
ment to change the nature of things, they had no difficulty in
proving, satisfactorily to themselves, that the King had always
exercised this supremacy in ecclesiastical matters. They seem,
however, to have felt that their argument would carry them
too far. They therefore hastened to qualify it by adding that,
though the King’s command ought to be binding in all things
referring ‘ to the glory of God as well as to the good of the
commonwealth,’ yet it extended ‘ not to compel the heart and
mind, nor the religion of the parties, but only the external
action of the body.’
They acknowledged that there were tw^o cases in which the
King ought not to interfere even with ‘ the external action of
the body,’ namely, either when the person was liable ‘to be
drawn into the danger of hypocrisy,’ or when the action com-
manded w'as ‘prohibited by lawful and binding authority.’
They argued, hovfever, that there was no danger of leading
anyone into hypocrisy by ordering him to go to church. The
other objection they met by saying that when a Catholic priest
directed those who would listen to him to absent themselves from
398 THE PACIFICATION OF IRELAND. CH.
the Protestant service, he was only giving them advice, and the
mere reception of advice freed no one from the duty of obey-
ing the King. Besides this it was necessary that the Castle
Chamber should cover the deficiencies of the Irish statutes.
If no English precedent could be found, it was because no
such interference had been needed where the law itself was
so much more perfect.
The Council then returned to the main point, as if conscious
that their answers had not been altogether satisfactory. It was
plain, they argued, that to come to church was commanded by
the law of God, for it was impossible to admit that Parliament
would command anything contrary to the law of God. He
who resisted the law of God was in danger of damnation, con-
sequently it was ‘a charitable thing, by terror of temporal
punishments, to put such persons out of that state of dam-
nation.’
After a few more remarks, they fell back on those general
ai-guments to which most governments in the wrong have
recourse when they are pressed hard. If men might disobey
the law under pretence of conscience, no laws would be obeyed
by anyone. “So that be the laws never so wise, wholesome,
just, or godly, the common and unlearned people may dis-
charge themselves of their duties by claiming or pretending the
same to be against their erroneous or ignorant consciences,
which is no other than to subject good laws to the will and
pleasure not only of the wise, but of the simple.”
Chichester felt that, however desirable it might be to
compel all Irishmen to attend church, it was an impracticable
scheme. On the very day on which the letter of the Council
chirhester's Written, he sent off another to Salisbury, m which
letter to he gavc cxpression to his own feelings. “In these
Salisbury. of bringing men to church,” he wrote, “ I
have dealt as tenderly as I might, knowing well that men’s
consciences must be won and persuaded by time, conference,
and instructions, which the aged here will hardly admit, and
therefore our hopes must be in the education of the youth ;
and yet we must labour daily, otherwise all will turn to
barbarous ignorance and contempt I am not \iolent therein,
CHICHESTER ON PERSECUTION,
399
I6c6
albeit 1 wish reformation, and will study and endeavour it all I
may, which I think sorts better with His Majesty’s ends than
to deal with violence and like a Puritan in this kind.” ^ Upon
the receipt of this letter the English judges were consulted, and
gave an opinion that the proceedings in Ireland Avere according
to law. Barnwall was, upon this, sent back to Ireland, and
required to make submission to the Deputy. He had achieved
his object. In spite of the opinion of the English judges, no
attempt was ever again made in Ireland to enforce attendance
at church through the fear of a fine in the Council Chamber.^
Two or three months later, Salisbury received a letter from
Lord Buttevant, protesting against the measures which were
being taken in Munster by the President® Upon this the
juij, 1607. English Council wrote to recommend that a more
Keiaxation moderate course should be taken with the recusants.'*
of the per-
secution This order cannot have been otherwise than agree-
able to the Deputy. He had engaged himself in repressive
measures, not from any persecuting spirit, but because he
believed that the religion of the Catholics made them enemies
to order and government. He gave way, like the Duke of
Wellington in 1829, without modifying his opinion in the least,
as soon as he saw that his measures had provoked a spirit of
resistance which was far more dangerous to the State than the
elements which he had attempted to repress.
The death of Sir Henry Brouncker, in the summer of 1 607,
made a change of system easy in Munster. It was found that
he had left the principal men of all the towns in the
sirH. province either m prison, or on bond to appear
they were summoned.® The greater part of
the prisoners were released.® For some little time indictments
’ Chichester to Salishury, Dec. I, his/i Cal. ii. 64.
* The Council to Chichester and the Irish Council, Dec. 31, tU(f,
ii. 83.
^ Buttevant to Salishury, Feb. ii, idtd. ii. 137.
The Council to Chichester, July 21, idtd. ii. 230.
® Moryson to Salisbury, June 25, ibid. ii. 266.
« Fourteen were kept in prison, -who refused to sign a bond that tbe^f
would not leave the province without leave, and that they would appear
400
THE PACIFICATION OF IRELAND, CH. ix.
xrere brought under the statute, and the shilling fines were
levied ; but even these were gradually dropped, and, for a
time at least, the Government was convinced that the attempt
to convert Irishmen by force was more dangerous than they
had expected.
A trial w'hich took place in the early part of 1607, can
hardly be considered to have formed part of the persecution,
lor, Vicar- whicli was at that time dying away. Amongst the
tiirerL'-^ priests who w^ere lying in prison at the end of the
preceding year, was Robert Lalor, Vicar-General in
the dioceses of Dublin, Kildare, and Ferns. He obtained his
release in December, by confessing that it was unlawful tx
hold the office which he occupied, and that the appointment of
Bishops rightfully belonged to the Sovereign. He also promised
to obey all the lawful commands of the King.
It soon came to the ears of the Government that he had
been giving a false account of the confession which he had
made. He had attempted to excuse himself to his
dieted under friends by asserting that he had only acknowledged
of Premu-* the authority of the King in temporal causes. Upon
this he was indicted under the Statute of Premunire.
The Government do not seem to have been animated by any
vindictive feeling against the man, but they appear to have
been glad to seize an opportunity of demonstrating that he
could be reached by a statute passed in the reign of Richard II.,
and that the claims of the Catholic priesthood had been felt as
a grievance, even by a Catholic Sovereign and a Catholic
Parliament. He was accordingly charged with receiving Bulls
from Rome, and with exercising ecclesiastical jurisdiction. He
had also instituted persons to benefices, had granted dispen-
sations in matrimonial causes, and had pronounced sentences
of divorce. At his trial he urged that he belonged to a Church
whose decrees were only binding on the consciences of those
who chose voluntarily to submit to them, and that therefore
any time when summoned before the Council, and that they would not
willingly converse with any priest. The late President had laid fines to
the amount of 7,000/., but only 80/. was actually levied.— -Chichcsicr to
Salisbury, Aug. 4, Insh Cal. ii, 316.
i6o7 CHICHESTER AS A CHURCH REEORMER. 401
the Statute of Premunire, framed to check a jurisdiction re-
cognised by the State, had no longer any application, Davies,
who had become Attorney- General in the course of the preced-
ing year, would hear nothing of this argument A verdict of
guilty was brought in, and sentence was pronounced.^ Lalor,
having served the purpose for which his trial was intended,
slipped out of sight It is not probable that he was very
severely punished.
Chichester betook himself to a more congenial mode of
reforming the Church. He could not do much where the
Chichester’s Archbishop of Cashel was plundering four dioceses, ^
Sm the where scarcely a parish was sufficiently endowed
Church. for the support of a minister. But he did what he
could. He had his eye upon every preacher of worth and ability
in Ireland, and as the sees fell vacant one by one, he was ready
to recommend a successor, and to propose some scheme by
which to increase the pittance, which the last occupant had
probably eked out by illegal means. The rule which he laid
down for the choice of bishops for Ireland may be gathered
from a letter in which he informed Salisbury of the death of the
•Bishop of Down and Connor. He reminded him that, in choos-
ing successors to any of the Bishops, regard should be ‘ had as
well to their ability of body, and manners and fashion of life,
as to their depth of learning and judgment : these latter quali-
fications being fitter for employments in settled and refined
kingdoms than to labour in the reformation of this.’^ Nor
were these his only services to the Church. He was
foremost in pressing on the translation of the Book
of Common Prayer into Irish, and as soon as the work was
accomplished in 1608, he took an active part in dispersing it
through the country.^
The Deputy’s office was certainly not a bed of roses.
Whilst the whole of the Catholic South was openly expressing
^ Stale Trials^ ii. 533.
® Note of Abu-es, Aug. 4, Insh Cat, ii. 315.
® Chichester to Salisbury, Jan. 1 4, ttftl. ii. 104.
* Hart. MSS. 3544. The translation of the New Testament had been
completed in 1603.
VOL. I. D D
402
THE PACIFICATION OF IRELAND.
CH. IX.
its detestation of his measures, the state of the North was such
as to engage his most anxious attention. After his
AfTairsof visit to Ulster in 1605, he had formed some hopes
that the great chiefs would quietly submit to the new
order of things. In the spring of the following year, he began
to be doubtful of the success of any attempt to convert an Irish
chief into a peaceful subject. The rule of the law had come
near enough to the two northern earls to make them discon-
tented. Tyrone himself promised that he w^ould obey the laws,
Chichester, who put little faith in his promises, was only con-
firmed by his intercourse with him in the opinion that Ulster
would never prosper until it was brought under the settled
government of a President and Council.^ Tyrone must have
had some inkling of this opinion of the Deputy, for, not long
afterwards, he wrote to the King, protesting against such an
■indignity, and declaring that he would sooner pass the rest of
his life in exile than come under any government but that of
the King himself, or of the Lord Deputy ; ^ or, in other words,
that he would do anything rather than submit to any govern-
ment which was near enough to reach him effectively.
Chichester determined to leave it to time to devclope the
results which were certain to ensue, and contented himself
with employing the summer in a progress through
at Mona- the thrcc south-western counties of Ulster. His first
resting-place was Monaghan, then a village composed
of scattered cottages, chiefly occupied by the soldiers of the
little garrison. The inhabitants of the surrounding country
were, for the most part, members of the sept of the Mac-
Mahons. Monaghan had been made shire-ground sixteen
years before, and had been divided into freeholds, to be held
by the principal men of the district. But the flood of rebellion
bad passed over the unhappy country before the new order of
things had well taken root, and had swept away every trace of
these arrangements. The freeholders themselves had been a
particular mark for those who had found their account in the
old anarchy, and such of them as did not aid the rebels were
■ ‘ Chichester to Salisbury, May 10, Irish Cal. i. 726.
2 Tyrone to the King, June 17, ibid i 763.
i6o6
CHICHESTER IN MONAGHAN
403
either slain or driven away. To restore order amidst the
confusion which had set in was no easy task. Chichester
set about it with his usual good sense and courtesy. He
arranged the whole settlement so as to make as few changes
as possible. Whenever he found that an alteration was
necessary, he laid it before the chief persons present, and
succeeded in securing their full consent to his proposals. It
only remained to obthin the requisite powers from England
before his final sanction could be given.
The necessity which existed for a change in the social con-
dition of the countiy became apparent as soon as the assizes
were opened. Prisoner after prisoner was brought to
Assizes held. , , • , , ,
the bar ; it was to no purpose that the most con-
vincing evidence was tendered against them ; in every case a
verdict of Not Guilty was returned. The cause was soon dis-
covered : the jurymen knew that if they returned a verdict
of Guilty, they would be exposed to the vengeance of the
relations of the prisoner, and that they might consider them-
selves fortunate if, as soon as the Deputy’s cavalcade was
gone, they only saw their lands pillaged and their cattle
driven away.
The county w^as plainly unfit for the exercise of trial by
jury. The simplest remedy would have been temporarily to
suspend the system. But such an idea never occurred to
Englishmen at that time, except in cases of actual rebellion. In
this case the jurymen were visited with ‘ good round fines.’
The next jury was terrified into giving a true verdict We are
not told what became of the persons who composed it after the
Deputy was gone.
One of the customs of the county was a nuisance which
Chichester was determined to abate. The principal men of
the district had long made it a habit to ‘ eat their beef from the
English Pale.’ In order to make this possible, an indispensable
member of their household was a professional thief,
ofAiona-'^^^ who Went by the respectable appellation of ‘The
Caterer.’ In order to give these people a hint that
such proceedings must come to an end, two of the great men,
whose tables had been supplied in this irregular way were in-
D n 2
404
THE PACIFICATION OF IRELAND. ch. rx.
dieted as receivers of stolen goods. They acknowledged their
fault upon their knees, and 'were immediately pardoned.
Before leaving Monaghan, Chichester obtained the consent
of the chief men of the county to the building of a gaol and a
sessions house, and persuaded them to contribute 20/. a year
for the maintenance of a school.
In Monaghan there was some recollection of a land settle-
ment In Fermanagh the Irish tenures had prevailed unin-
terruptedly. The county was in the hands of two of
Fermanagh. Magiiires. Counor Roe Maguire had joined the
English at the time of the rebellion, and had been rewarded by
a grant of the whole county. When the war was concluded,
Mountjoy, wishing to bribe into submission the rebel chief
Cuconnaught Maguire, took advantage of a legal flaw in
Coniaor’s patent, and divided the county between them. No
patent was, Irowever, to be granted till freeholds had been
established. Here, again, Chichester was called upon to solve
the knotty question of tiie Irish tenures. On making inquiries,
he found that here, as everywhere else, two theories prevailed
The lords, with one consent, declared that all the land belonged
to them ; the occupants no less stoutly protested that the land
was theirs, and that the lords had only a right to certain fixed
dues.* Chichester noted dowm in his memory the rival doc-
trines, and reserved them for future consideration, Davies,
with characteristic readiness to grasp at any theory which made
against the Irish lords, set down the case of the tenants as fully
proved.
; Fiom.Fermanagh the Deputy proceeded to Cavan, where
he found the county in a state of unexampled confusion. Be-
Cavan rebellion broke out, a settlement of the ques-
tions connected with the land tenures had been pro-
posed by which the greater part of the district was to have been
allotted to Sir John O’Reilly and his immediate relations. But,
If this arrangement had ever taken effect, no legal records of it
* Precisely the same opposite doctrines as tho.'Je which arose in Russia
about the land tenure during the discussions on the emancipation of the
serfs.
i6o6 state of FERMANAGH. 405
had been preserved, and Sir John himself had died inarms against
the Queen. On his death, his brother Philip set at nought the
arrangements of the Government, and took possession, as tanist,
of the whole district, giving himself the title of The O’Reilly.
He did not long survive his brother, and was succeeded by his
uncle Edmond, who was afterwards killed in rebellion. Upon
his death no successor was appointed. Whilst the greater part
of the family had taken arms against the Queen, Sir J ohn’s
eldest son, Molinary O’Reilly, had served under the English
Government, and had been slain fighting against his country-
men. Upon the restoration of peace, his widow, a niece of the
Earl of Ormond, demanded the wardship of her son, and a
third part of the land as her own dower. This claim was not
supported by law, as Sir John had never taken out his patent
to hold his land by English tenure, and consequently his son
Molinary had never been the legal owner of the land. Carey,
however, who was the Deputy to whom her request had been
made, acceded to her wishes, though he gave the custody of
the land to one of Sir John’s brothers. The inhabitants of the
county took advantage of the confusion to refuse to pay rent to
anyone. Chichester investigated the whole subject, and, as he
had done in the case of the other two counties, reserved his
decision till after his return to Dublin.
The results which were expected to ensue from the coming
change were sketched out, by Davies, in waim, but by no means
Results ex- iu too glowing colours. ‘‘All the possessions,” he
fheutpmy’s ^rote, “ shall descend and be conveyed according to
progress. the couise of the common law ; every man shall have
a certain home, and know the certainty of his estate, whereby
the people will be encouraged to manure^ their land with
better industry than heretofore hath been used, to bring up
children more civilly, to provide for their posterity more care-
fully. This will cause them to build better houses for their
safety, and to love neighbourhood. And there will arise
villages and towns, which will draw tradesmen and artificers, so
as we conceive a hope that these countries, in a short time, will
' ue, cultivate.
4o6 the pacification OF IRELAND. CH.
not only be quiet neighbours to the Pale, but be made as rich
and as civil as the Pale itself.” ^
When the proposed settlement in Cavan and Fermanagh was
laid before the English Privy Council, it appeared that the
Nov. 14. view there taken of the course to be pursued was
thfEn?iu.h liberal than* that of the Lord Deputy. They
Council. ■ charged him to see that the natives were satisfied in
the division of land, and that but few Englishmen should receive
a share Mest, if many strangers be brought in among them, it
s'hould be imagined as an invention to displant the natives,
irhich would breed a general distaste in all the Irish.’ ^
The summer, which had been employed by Chichester in
his northern progress, had also seen the conversion into shire-
wickiow ground of the last southern Irish district which had
maintained the independence of the English law.
ground. Froiii heiicefortli the country of the Byrnes and
I’ooles was to be known as the county of Wicklow. On his
return from Ulster, the indefatigable Davies accompanied the
chief justice, Sir James Ley, on his circuit. For the first time,
the new county was to be visited by the judges. They set out,
without entertaining any very favourable expectations of the
reception with which they were likely to meet, as it was gene-
rally understood in Dublin that the Wicklow hills were a mere
den of thieves and robbers. They met with an agreeable sur-
prise. The people flocked around the judges in such numbers
that it was a matter of astonishment to them how the desolate
mountains could support such multitudes. Old and young
poured forth from the glens to welcome the magistrates, who
were to confer upon the county the blessings of a settled and
regular law. Nor was the feeling confined to the poorer
classes. I'he gentlemen and freeholders paid the court the
highest compliment which it was in their power to bestow, by
' Report of the Deputy’s visit to Ulster, enclosed by Davies to Salis-
bury, Sept.‘20, 1606, Davies’ UUtoncal TraciSy 215. Chichester and the
Irish Council to the Council, Sept. 12, 1606. Chichester to the Council,
Sept. 12, 1606, IHsh Cal. i. 847, 848.
^ The Council to Chichester, Nov. 14 ibul. ii, 37,
j6o6
CHICHESTER AS A RULER.
407
appearing in what was to them the awkward novelty of the
English dressd
If these unwonted signs of loyalty were manifested amongst
the native population they were owing to the growing conviction
that Chichester meant well by those who were subjected to his
authority. Armed force he had but little to dispose of, but
the knowledge that he was doing his best to establish justice
weighed heavily on his side. By his attempt to force the Irish
to conform to a religion which they detested, he had, from
the best of motives, done much to weaken that impression pbut
that mistake was soon to be abandoned, and if only the settle-
ment of Ireland could have been carried out in the spirit which
had dictated the despatch of the English Council on the division
of Cavan and Fermanagh, Irish history would have been more
cheerful reading than it is.
* Dsvies to Salisbury, Nov. 12, 1606, Irish Cal. ii. 33.
4o8
CHAPTER X.
THE PLANTATION OF ULSTER. ,
Satisfactory as the progress of improvement was, on the
whole, the Deputy found materials for anxiety in the condition
pissatisfac of Ulster. In the summer of 1606, a report reached
noJihlra* him that Tyrconnell and Cuconnaught Maguire had
chiefs. been attempting to obtain a passage for France on
board a Scottish vessel, which happened to be lying off the
coast ^ In January, 1607, Chichester took the op-
portunity of a visit which Tyrone was paying in
Dublin, to question him on the subject, but he was unable to
elicit from him any information except that the two chiefs were
miserably poor, and had expressed to him their discontent.
T) rone himself was in no good humour ; he was irritated by
difficulties connected with the ownership of land in his own
country, wffiich had been perpetually recurring, in one form or
another, ever since his return from England,^ and which were
likely to recur as long as the English Government looked with
‘ Depositions of Gawin More and Kilmeny, of Glasgow, Aug. 30,
1606, Irish Cal. i. 830.
A few months before James expressed himself in a way whicli .‘■hows
that he, at least, had no deliberate wish to despoil Tyrone of his inherit-
ance, which, as he says, if it were determined by strict law, might be doubtful
‘ in a countiy where their evidences and records are so ill kept.’ He sent a
message to Salisbury, ‘ that as, on the one side, he will not maintain Tyrone
in any encroaching of such greatness upon his subjects as were not fit, so
on the other side he would wish all occasions to be taken from him of just
complaint, considering what dependency the Irish have on him, and how
ticklish their disposition is towards the Slate.’— Lake to Salisbury, Aug. 27,
r6o6, Ilaifeld MSS. 118, fol. 09.
i6o7 TYRONE AND 0 CABAN W
jealousy on his proprietary claims, which carried political
authority with them. His chief quarrel, however,
quarrel with was with Sir Donnell O’Canan, his principal vassal,
o cahaii. uriaglit, as he was called by the Irish. O’Cahan’s
territory was of considerable extent, reaching from the river
Bann to the shores of Lough Foyle. He boasted that it had
been held by his ancestors for a thousand years. When a
successor to The O’Neill was chosen, it was to O’Cahan that
the privilege, was assigned of inaugurating him by the various
ceremonies which were required by the Irish’ custom.^ When
The O’Neill went to war, O’Cahan was bound to join him at
the head of one hundred horse and three hundred foot, in
return for which he claimed the suit of apparel which was worn
by The O’Neill, and the horse upon which he rode, as well as
a hundred cows. O’Cahan, on the other hand, paid to ''J’he
O’Neill a yearly rent of twenty-one cows. According to
O’Cahan, when he had performed these services, he was as
much the lord of his own land as any English freeholder,
O’Neill, on, the other hand, had never been sparing, whenever
he had the power, of those various forms of exaction which
weighed so heavily upon an Irish vassal.
This state of things, liable enough in itself to give rise to
endless disputes, had been aggravated by the interpretation
which each of the rivals had put upon the promises of the
English Government. O’Cahan had followed his chief in re-
bellion, but had been the first to make his peace. As a reward
for his desertion of the Irish cause, Mountjoy had promised
him that he should in future hold his lands directly from the
Crown. He actually received a patent, granting him the
custody of the lands at the same rent as that which he had
1 After the chief had sworn to observe the cust' ms of the tribe, and
had taken his place on the stone on which the chiefs or kings were seated
at their installation, the principal sub-chief presented him with a tod.
Then, ‘ after receiving the rod, the king’s shoes were taken off, and he
placed his feet in the impress, in the stone, of his ancestor’s feet ; then,
stepping forward, the sub-chieftain placed sandals on his chief’s feet in
token of obedience, retained one of the royal shoes as an honourable per-
quisite, and threw the other over the king’s head as an augury of good
luck .’ — Dublin University Mag, No, cccxxxv. p. 531.
410
THE PLANTATIOE OF ULSTER.
CH.
been accustomed to pay to Tyrone ; and he had a promise
that an absolute g ant of them should be made out, as soon as
the Government had time to attend to such matters. But,
before anything was done, Tyrone had himself submitted, and
had received a grant of all the lands which had been in posses
sion of his grandfather, Con O’Neill.
Upon Tyrone’s return from England, his first thought was
to claim O’Cahan’s submission, in virtue of the grant which he
brought with him. He hated O’Cahan as a deserter,
and he demanded that two hundred cows should at
once be sent to him, and that OCiahan should engage to pay
him, in future, the same number as an annual rent, which was
considered to be equivalent to a payment of 200/. As a pledge
for the performance of his demand, he took possession of a
1606. large district belonging to O’Cahan. At first,
suSSto O’Cahan submitted without resistance, as he knew
Tyrone. that Mountjoy had taken Tyrone’s part, and whatever
hopes he may have entertained were at an end when Tyrone
showed him the royal grant. Believing that he had been
betrayed, he resigned himself to his fate, and signed a
paper, in which he agreed to give way in everything. He with-
drew all claims to an independent position, and promised to
submit any quarrel which might hereafter arise between himself
and any of his own follow'ers to the arbitration of the Earl^
It waj probably during a visit paid to Montgomery, the new
Bishop of Derry, Raphoe, and Clogher, in the summer of 1606,
that a new light dawned upon O'Cahan’s mind as to the support
which be was likely to obtain from the Government. Mont-
gomery had discovered that three bishoprics in Ireland might
‘ Agreement, Feb. 17. It is signed by O’Cahan only. Irish Cal.
ri 144. The editors give the date as 1606, but place the document in 1607.
Theie can be no doubt that 1606 is the right date. It was probably
diawn up by some priest who attended Tyione, who, from his foreign
education, would be accustomed to begin the year on January 1. February
1606-7 is an impossible date, as Chichester speaks of the quarrel as
already revived in his letter to Salisbury on January 26, 1607. Compare
O’Cahan's petition, May 2, 1607, Irish Cal. ii. 120, 196 It appears
that the seizure of the cattle took place in the beginning of October, 1606.
— iJavies to Salisbury, Nov, 12, 1606, ibU. ii. 33.
i6o6
0 ’CABAN CCMFLAINS.
411
afford but a poor maintenance to a bishop, and, as he knew
that a large part of the lands which he claimed on behalf of the
see of Derry lay in O’Cahan’s territory, he encouraged the
Irishman to go to law with Tyrone, on the understanding that
he was himself to reap part of the benefit^ Rumours, too, may
well have reached him that inquiries had been made into the
nature of the connection between the chiefs and their subordi-
nates, and it must soon have oozed out that the Government
was by no means desirous to allow more to the great chiefs than
strict justice required.
Whatever rumours of this kind may have been abroad,
they failed to make any impression on Tyrone. Scarcely had
Tyrone Chichcster returned to Dublin, when the Earl pro-
renews his ceeded to further aggressions. His wish was to gain
aggresbions. O’Cahan's followers to his own service. The
method by which he hoped to obtain his object had, at least,
the merit of simplicity. He drove off all the cattle which he
could find in O’Cahan’s district, and told the owners that they
could only regain their property by breaking off all connection
with his rival. ^
In May, O’Cahan laid his case before the Deputy and the
Council. After detailing his grievances, he requested that
May 1607 might be allowed the services of the Attorney-
General.^ His request was complied with, and the
two rivals were ordered to present themselves before
the Council It had been difficult to induce Tyrone to appear ;
it was not to be expected that he should comport himself in
such a manner as to satisfy the Council. His proud spirit was
unable to brook the degradation of being called in question for
what he regarded as his ancestral rights. He can hardly have
doubted that a decision against him was a foregone conclusion,
and that the legal question of the force of the patent granted
’ Montgomery to Salisbury, July i, 1607, Irish Cat ii. 281, 282.
^ This is O’Cahan’s account of the matter. Tyrone, in his answer to
O’Cahan’s petition (May 23, 1607), says it was done as a distress for rent.
Perhaps O'Cahan refused to pay the stipulated rent of two hundred coas.
s O’Cahan’s petition, May 2 j Tyrone’s answer, May 23, Irish Ccd. ii.
196, 212.
412
THE PLANTATION OF ULSTER.
CH. X.
by James to himself was likely to be settled in O’Cahan's favour
on political grounds.^ “I am come here,” said O’Cahan, ‘‘to
be protected by the King, and to the end that I and my kindred
may depend only on the King. If you send me down again to
live under O’Neill, and to hold my country at his pleasure, I
must do as I have done and be at his commandment in all
actions he shall undertake.” ^ No sooner had O’Cahan begun
to read the papers on which he rested his case, than Tyrone
snatched them violently from his hand, and tore them in
pieces before his face. It was with difficulty that the Deputy
restrained his indignation, and contented himself with giving
him a slight reproof.
Chichester had reasons of his owm for visiting so mildly this
disrespectful conduct. Reports had reached him which led him
to believe that an agitation was prevailing in the country which
might at any time lead to an outbreak, and he was unwilling to
precipitate matters by any appearance of severity.
Salisbury had received information of a plot which was in
existence in Ireland, from a younger brother of Lord Howth,
Information Christopher St. Lawrence, who was at that time
ofacon-^ serving in the Archduke’s army in the Netherlands.
spiracygiven _ ,
to the Go- But St Lawrence s character for veracity did not
vemiuent. difficult to take any measures
solely upon his evidence. On May i8 a circumstance occurred
which corroboiated his statement; an anonymous paper was
found at the door of the Council Chamber, slating that a plan
had been formed to murder the Deputy and to seize upon the
government.^ Not long afterwards St Lawrence, who had
lately succeeded to his brother’s title, arrived in Dublin. Tlie
new Lord Howth told his story to the Deputy. He said that
it was intended that a general revolt should take place, in which
many of the nobility, as well as the towns and cities, were to
take part, and that they had received assurance of assistance
’ See the apparently temperate statement in St. John’s letter to Salis-
bury, June I, Ins/i Cal. n. 22j.
^ Davies to Salisbury, July i, tim/. ii. 279.
” Chichester to SuHsbi’ y, May 27, inclosing a copy of the pa^'^er, idid
i. 317.
i6o7 A CONSPIRACY DETECTED. 413
from the King of Spain. The original idea had been to seize
upon Dublin Castle at Easter in the preceding year, and to
surprise the Deputy and Council. This was to have been the
signal for a general rising. The plan was at that time relin-
quished, in consequence of the refusal of Lord Delvin, one
of the lords of the Pale, to concur in any scheme by which
Chichester’s life was threatened. He declared that, sooner
than the Deputy should be slain, he would reveal the whole
.plot to the Government. Howth added that, before he left
Flanders, the learned Florence Conry, Provincial of the Irish
Franciscans, assured him that everything was now ready in
Ireland for an insurrection. The King of Spain, however, who
was to furnish ten thousand foot and two hundred horse, would
not be prepared till the autumn of 1608. The Provincial was
himself entrusted with a large sum of money, which was to be
placed in Tyrconnell’s hands. Howth also declared that Tyr*
connell had been present at tlie meetings of the conspirators
'On the other hand, though he had no doubt of Tyrone’s com-
plicity, he was unable to prove anything against him. The
information was afterwards fully confirmed by the confession of
Delvin. ^ Chichester, however, at the time, put little confidence
in a story which came from such a source. Howth himself
.refused to be produced in public as a witness, and there was
little to be done except to use all possible means of acquiring
additional information. That such a conspiracy existed was
sufficiently probable. The attempt to enforce the Recusancy
laws in 1605 could not but have had the effect of disposing the
lords of the Pale and the merchants of the towns to look with
eagerness to a coalition with the chiefs of the North, who were
dissatisfied on very different grounds.^
Meanwhile Tyrone’s prospects at Dublin had changed The
lawyers, with Davies at their head, had hit upon the notable
’ Chichester to Salisbury, Sept. 8. Delvin’s confession, Nov, 6, Insk
Cal, ii. 296, 301, 336, 337, 438. The plot was imparted by Tyrconnell
to Howth and Delvin at Maynooth, about Christmas 1605.
Chichester to Salisbury, July 7. The Council to Chichester, July 22,
ibid, ii. 296, 301,
4T4
PLANTATION OF ULSTER.
CH X.
iJea that the lands in question belonged to neither of the dis-
The lawyer*, putants, but'that they were, in reality, the property of
rfcah!a?s^‘ the Crown. Proud of their discovery, the King’s
to Counsel requested Chichester to allow them to ex-
Cown. hibit an information of intrusion against the Earl, and
assured him that they would be able to bring the whole district
into His Majesty’s hands. The Deputy’s strong good sense
saved him from being led away by such a proposal. An order
was made that two-thirds of the district should remain in
possession, and that Tyrone should keep the re-
ing third till the question had been decided. Both Tyrone
jyiy and O’Cahan were at this time anxious to have leave
be^hSin England, and to plead their cause before
London. the King.' After some delay, the King decided upon
taking the matter into his own hands, and to hear the case in
England. 2
In August, Chichester again set out for Ulster. His inten-
tion was to carry out some, at least, of the reforms which he
.had planned in the course of his last visit. On his way, he had
frequent interviews with Tyrone. The Earl was now evidently
dissatisfied with the prospect of a visit to England, but was
apparently engaged in making preparations for his journey.
In fact, the news that Tyrone had been summoned to
England had spread consternation in the ranks of the con-
Constenia- spirators. It was impossible for them not to suppose
thecon-™^ that luore was meant than met the eye. They
fancied that all their plans were in the hands of the
Government, and they looked upon the order for Tyrone’s
journey to London as a clever scheme for separating from them
the man whose presence would be most needful when the in-
surrection broke out. Accordingly, they soon became convinced
that all chances of success were at an end, and that they might
consider themselves fortunate if they succeeded in saving their
lives from justice.
‘ Chichester and the Irish Council to the Council, June 26, with en-
closures. Davies to Salisbury, July i, Irish Co!, ii. 267, 279.
* The King to Cluchester, July 16. Chichester tc the Council, Aug.
4, ibid. ii. 288, 316.
i6o7
THE FLIGHT OF THE EARLS. ■
415
On Saturday, August 29, Chichester saw Tyrone for the last
time. The earl visited the Deputy at Slane, and entered into
^ . . conversation with him on the subject of his intended
Tyrone visits . „ , , ___ . ^ .
Chichester joumey to England. vVhen he took his leave, the
at Slane. j . • r n* • i
downcast expression of his countenance was noticed
by all who saw him. He may well have been dejected. The
dream of his life was passing away for ever. Calmly and steadily
the' English usurper was pressing on over the land where obedi-
ence had been paid to his ancestors for generations. He had
easily credited the warning which reached him, that if he set
foot in England he would himself be committed to the Tower,
and that Chichester would be appointed to govern Ulster as
Lord President Nothing remained but to seek refuge in a
foreign land from the hated invader, whom he could never
again hope to expel from the soil of Ireland.
He next went to Sir Garret Moore’s house, at Mellifont
When he left the house, the inmates were astonished at the
Flight of wildness of his behaviour. The great earl wept like
Tyrone. ^ child, and bade a solemn farewell to every person
in the house. On the 31st he w'as at Dungannon, where for
two days he rested for the last time among his own people.
Late on the evening of September 2 he set off again, accom-
panied by his wife, his eldest son, and two of his young
children. A party of his followers guarded their chief and his
family. Between him and his countess there was but little love;
in his drunken bouts he had been accustomed to behave to her
with the greatest rudeness. Nothing but absolute necessity
had forced her to remain with him, and she had only been
prevented from betraying his secrets to the Government by
the care with which he avoided entrusting her with any.^
As the train was hurrying through the darkness of the night,
she slipped from her horse, either being in reality overcome
with fatigue, or being desirous of escaping from her husband.
She declared that she was unable to go a step further. Tyrone
was not in a mood to be crossed ; he drew his sword, and com-
» When Chichester was in the North in 1605, Lady Tyrone had offered
to play the spy for him.— Chichester to Devonshire, Feb. 26, 1606, with
enclosures, Irish CaL i. 654.
PLANTATION OF ULSTER,
CH. X.
pelled her to mount again, swearing that he would kill her, if
,she did not put on a more cheerful countenance. The next
day, he crossed the Foyle at Dunalong, in order to pass un-
noticed between the garrisons of Derry and Lifford. The
Governor of Derry, hearing that the earl was in the neighbour-
hood, and being ignorant of his intentions, sent a messenger to
ask him to dinner, an invitation which Tyrone declined. Late
on the night of the 3rd, the little band arrived at Rathmullan, on
the shores of Lough Swilly, where Tyrconnell and Cuconnaught
fte finds Maguire were waiting for them. ^ Maguire, who had
mTuL acquainted with the conspiracy, had gone over to
S Brussels in May,® ap])arently in order to see whether
there was any chance of obtaining assistance from the
Archduke- A few weeks earlier, Bath, a citizen of Drogheda, had
been sent by the two earls to ask for help from the King of Spain,®
but had met with a cool reception. The Spanish Government
had enough upon its hands in the Low Countries to deter it from
embarking in a fresh war with England. Maguire had not been
long in Brussels before information reached him that their whole
scheme had been discovered. It was said tliat the Archduke
had given him a sum of money to enable him to assist in the
escape of the persons implicated. With this he bought a ship
at Rouen, where he met with Bath, and in his company sailed
for the north of Ireland.
They had been preceded by a letter written from Brus.scls
by Tyrone’s son, Henry O’Neill, to his father, which, probably,
conveyed intelligence of their intended arrival** On August 25,
I'hey set sail anchor in Lough Swilly, where they
from Lough had remained under pretence of being engaged
in fishing until Tyrconnell and Tyrone could be
warned. On September 4, the exiles w^ent on board, and on
tlie following day they bade farewell for ever to their native
land. It is said that they were detained by a cuiious circum-
’ Chichester to the Council, Sept. 7. Davies to Salisbury, S pt. 1 2,
Ir:sh Cal, ii. 343, 354.
^ Exaraiur.tion of James Loach, Dec. 18, ibid, ii, 493.
® Examination of Sir Thomas Fitzgerald, Oct. 3. ibid. ii. 390.
^ Confession of Sir Cormac O’Neill, Oct. 8, 'bid. ii. 424.
1&07
CHICHESTER^S PRECAUTIONS.
4 T 7
stance.^ There was an infant child of one of Tyrconnel's
brothers, who was, according to the Irish custom, under the care
of a foster father. It happened that the child had been bom with
six toes on one of its feet. A prophecy was said to have been
handed down for generations, that a child of the sept of the
O’Donnells would be born with six toes, who would drive all
the English out of Ireland. Such a treasure was too valuable to
be left behind, and the whole party waited till the child had
been brought on board. The pains which were taken to secure
this infant were the more remarkable, as one of Tyrone’s own
cliildren was left in Ireland.
Chichester felt the full extent of the danger. He knew
that if a Spanish army were to land in Ireland, it would be
precautiors impossible for him to meet it with more than four
Govern-^ hundred men, and there was little hope that he would
nient. rcceive any active assistance, even from those among
the Irish who were ill-disposed to the cause of the two earls.
Whatever could be done, he did at once. Small garrisons
\rere thrown into the chief strongholds of the fugitives, and
orders were given for the arrest of the few persons who were
known to have taken part in the conspiracy.^ Commissioners
were sent into the northern counties to assume the government
ill the name of the King, and a proclamation was issued, in
which assurances were given to the common people that no
harm should befall them in consequence of the misconduct of
their superiors.
Still, the Deputy was anxious. In Ulster, as in so many
other parts of Ireland, though there were a few men of wealth
who dreaded the effects of a new rebellion, the mass of the
population were in such extreme poverty as to welcome the
prospect of war, in the hopes of gaining something in the
general scramble. Already bands were formed which began to
plunder their neighbours, and to infest the surrounding districts.
* This explanation would reconcile Davies, who says that they tcok
ship on the 4ih, with Chichester, who says that they sailed on the 5th.
Peihaps, however, one of the dates is incorrect.
2 Chichester to the Council, Sept. 7. Chichester to Salisbury, Sept. 8,
1607, Msh CaL ii. 343, 347.
VOL. L EE
4i8
PLANIATION OF ULSTER.
Cfl. X.
Chichester was not only in want of men, but money, as usual,
was very scarce. He tried to borrow 2,000/. in Dublin, but
the merchants of the capital had not forgotten the proceedings
in the Castle Chamber, and refused to lend him a shilling.
Amidst all these difficulties, Chichester kept his eye steadily
fixed upon the future. He saw at once what an opportunity
ChichesteA offered itself for changing the northern wilderness
i^to the garden of Ireland. If his plan had been
of Ulster, adopted the whole of the future history of Ireland
might have been changed, and two centurhis of strife and misery
might have been spared. Let the King, he wrote, at once take
into his own hands the country which had been vacated by the
earls, and let it be divided amongst its present inhabitants.
Let every gentleman in the country have as much land as he
and all his tenants and followers could stock and cultivate.
Then, when every native Irishman of note or good de.sert had
He hopes to ^^^^eived his share, and not till then, let the vast dis-
Wng the° which would still remain unoccupied, be given
conspirators to men who had distinguished themselves in the
” ’ military or civil service of the Crown, and to colonists
from England or Scotland, who might hold their lands upon
condition of building and garrisoning castles upon them. By
this means, everything would be provided for. The country
would be put into a good state of defence, at little or no ex-
pense to the Government, and the Irish themselve.s w’ould be
converted into independent and well-satisfied landholders, wffio
would bless the Government under which they had experienced
such an advance in w^ealth and prosperity. If this were not
done, Chichester concluded by saying, no alternative remained
but to drive out all the natives from Tyrone, Tyrconnell,
and Fermanagh, into some unapproachable wilderness where
they would be unable to render any assistance to an invading
army.^
The answer received from England to this proposal was
favourable. James was willing to adopt Chichester’s plan ; but
it would be necessary first to proceed to the conviction of the
Chichester to the Council, Sept. 17, J607, Iri^h CaL ii. 358.
i6o7 aCA//AsV^S CLAIMS. 419
fugitives, as nothing could be done with their estates befor)5
their attainder.^
For the present, however, the Government had its
hands too full of more important matters to allow it to
-Anxiety of iiiuch time to tracing out the ramifications of
Govern- an abortive conspiracy. The flight of the earls had
respect to brought with it a considerable alteration in the rela-
tions which had previously subsisted between the
Government and the chiefs of secondary rank in the North.
As long as Tyrone and Tyrconnell remained in Ulster it was
natural that their dependents should look with hope to a Govern-
ment which was likely to support them in any quarrel which
might arise between them and their superiors. But as soon
as the earls were gone, these men stepped at once into their
place. The same fear of English interference which had driven
Tyrone and Tyrconnell into rebellion now filled the minds of
their vassals with anxiety. It soon became evident that nothing
but the greatest prudence and forbearance on the part of
the English officials would succeed in maintaining the peace in
Ulster.
The twm Englishmen, upon whose discretion the preserva-
tion of peace principally depended, were the Bishop and the
The Rhhop Derry. Unfortunately, at this time both
of perryand ihesc important posts were occupied by men emi-
o ca an. gently Unfitted to fulfil the duties of their position.
Neither of them had been appointed at Chichester’s recom-
mendation. Montgomery had obtained the bishopric througlr
the favour of James himself. He employed himself diligently
in promoting the temporal interests of the See, to the complete
neglect of his spiritual duties. A year before he had supported
O’Cahan against Tyrone, because a large part of the land
which he claimed as the property of the See was in O’Cahan’s
territory, 2 and he thought that it would be easier to reclaim
1 The Council to Chichester, Sept. 29, LvsA Cal. ii. 380.
2 “Sir Donnell is a man of hold spirit, altogether unacquainted with
the laws and civil conversation” . . . “and undouhteclly hath much
malice within him, especially towards his neighbours ; yet I am of opinion
he might have been made better by example and good u?age ; and when
E E 2
THE PLANTATION OF ULSTER,
cn. X
them from him than from T}Tone. O’Cahan, however, showed
signs of resistance, and gave cause of suspicion to Chichester
of an intention to rebel.
The commander of the garrison at Derry, Sir George
Paulet, was, if possible, still less fitted for his post than the
SirG. Bishop of the See. He had been recently appointed
Governor of English Government, and it was said that
Derry. favour to the employment of bribery.
From the first Chichester had regarded the choice with dis-
approbation.* Not only was Paulet no soldier, but his tem-
per was beyond measure arrogant. He was soon at bitter
feud with his subordinate officers. He certainly did not incur
their dislike by over-strictness of discipline ; even the most
ordinary precautions were neglected, and— incredible as it may
seem, in the midst of a population which might rise at any
moment — he allowed the garrison to retire quietly to rest at
night, without taking even the precaution of posting a s’ngle
sentry on the walls. Such conduct had not escaped Chichester’s
observant eye. If Paulet had been an officer of his
own appointment, he would, doubtless, have removed
him from his post without loss of time. As it was, he was
obliged to content himself with warning him against the conse-
quences of his negligence. Unfortunately, he had to do with
one of those who never profit by any warning.
Such a man was not likely to be a favourite amongst his
Irish neighbours. He had not been long at Derry before
He suspects he was 0X1 the worst possible terms with Sir Cahir
SmdTng O’Dogherty, the young and spirited lord of Innis-
to rebel, howcH. About two months after the flight of Tyrone,
the smouldering embers of the quarrel burst out into a flame.
thi.s nation do once find that their neighbours aim at their lands, or any
part thereof, they are jealous of them and their Government, and, assur-
edly. his first discontent grew fiom the Bishop’s demanding great quantities
of land within his country, which never yielded, as he saith, but a chiefry
to that .see ; and so did the Primate’s demands add poLson to that infected
heart of Tyrone."- Chichester to Salisbury, Feb. 17, 1608, Iris/i CaL ii
568.
' Chichester to Salisburj’, Feb. 20, 1607, ibid. ii. uy.
i 6 o 7 ODOGHERTY attacked by PAULET, 421
On October 31, O’Dogherty collected a number of his followers,
foi the purpose of felling timber. In the state of excitement
in which the country was, it was impossible for a man of
O’Dogherty’s mark to bring together any considerable body
of men without exposing himself to suspicion. He was at
that time more likely to be regarded as a man inclined to
make a stir, as he had recently put arms into the hands of
about seventy of his followers. Within a few hours, therefore,
after he left his home at Birt Castle, a report spread rapidly
over the whole neighbourhood that, together with his wife and
the principal gentlemen of the district, he had taken refuge
in Tory Island, where he intended to await the return of
I'yrone. No sooner had this report reached Paulet than he
wrote to O’Dogherty, pretending to be extremely grieved at the
rumours which had reached him, and requesting him to come
at once to Derry. Paulet, after waiting a day or two for an
and fails in answer, Set out for Birt Castle, accompanied by the
w smpni^ sheriff and by what forces he was able to muster,
hiitcaitie. ypg hoped to be able to surprise the place iri the
absence of its owner. On his arrival he found that, though
O’Dogherty himself was absent, his wife had remained at home,
and refused to open the gates. His force was not sufficiently
large to enable him to lay siege to the place, and he had
no choice but to return to Derry, and to write an account
of what had passed to the Deputy. At the same time lie was
able to inform him that O’Cahan had been lately showing signs
of independence, and had been driving the Bishop’s rent-
. gatherers off the disputed lands. ^
1 Flansard to Sali^>bary; Nov. i and 6, Irish Cal ii. 425, 44S.
O’Dogherty to Paulet, Nov. 4. Paulet to Chichester, Nov., ibid, ii, 429,
430. Chichester to the Council, April 22, Mry 4, 1608, ibid. ii. 662, 686.
'I hat O’Dogherty was innocent of any intention to rebel was believed by
Hansard, who, as Governor of Lifford, was likely to be well informed.
Chichester, too, speaks of this matter in a letter to the Council on
April 22, as one ‘ wherein all men believed he had been wronged.’ Be-
sides, if he had intended treason, Neill Garve would certainly have known
of it ; and if anything had passed between them, some evidence of it
would surely have been discovered when witnesses were collected from all
quarters at a later date.
4-2
THE PLANTATION OF ULSTER.
CH. X.
Although O’Dogherty was unwilling to trust himself in
Paulet’s hands, he did not refuse to present himself before
O'Oogherty Chlchester at Dublin. The Deputy, who at this time
w looked with suspicion upon all the northern lords,
Chichester, listened to his story, but it was evident that he did
not altogether believe it. Having no proof against him, he
allowed him to return, after binding him in recognisances of
i,ooo/. to appear whenever he might be sent for. Lord Gor-
manston and Sir Thomas Fitzwdlliam became securities for his
appearance.^
Shortly after his return, O’Dogherty was called upon to act
as foreman of the grand jury which was summoned to lifford,
Assizes at oi^^er to find a bill for high treason against the
Lifford, followers. The jury consisted of
twenty-three persons, thirteen of whom were Irish. They do
not seem to have shown any backwardness, though at first
they felt some of those scruples which would naturally occur to
men who had livpd under a totally different system of law^ from
that in the administration of which they were called to take a
part. Having expressed a doubt as to the propriety of finding
a bill against the followers, some of whom might only have
acted under coercion, they were told that the indictment with
which alone they w'ere now concerned w'as only a solemn form
of accusation, and had nothing of the nature of a final sentence.
Opportunity would afterwards be given to such persons to clear
themselves, if they could. The jury were satisfied wdth this
answer, but wished to know how they were to find the earls
guilty of imagining the King’s death, as there was no evidence
before them that either of them had ever had any such inten-
tion. They were then initiated into one of the mysteries of the
English law, and w'ere told that every rebel conspired to take
the King’s crown from him, and that it was evident that a man
who would not suffer the King to reign, would not suffer him
to live. Upon this they retired, and within an hour found a
true bill against the accused.
'Fhe judges then crossed the river to Strabane, in the county
^ Chichester to the Council, Dec. Ii, 1607, CaL ii. 486.
423
i6o7 outlawry OF THE EARLS,
of Tyrone where a true bill w'as again found against Tyrone, on
the charge of having assumed the title of The O’Neill.^
find at He was also found guilty of murder, having executed
^tvd ane. nineteen persons without any legal authority. After
this the judges told the grand jury that they should thank God
for the change which had come over the country. They were
now under the King’s protection, who would not suffer them to
be robbed and murdered, and who would not allow anyone to
be imprisoned without lawful trial. To this address they all
answ'ered with cries of “ God bless the King I ” ^ A few weeks
afterwards process of outlawry was issued against the fugitives,
with a view to their attainder.^
During these months attempts were repeatedly made to
induce O’Cahan to submit himself to the authority of the
o'Cahan English officers. It was only after the Deputy had
subm.cs his prepared a small force to march into his country, that
conduct to 11. 1 1 1 .
iave'itiga. he Submitted, and gave himself up in Dublin, where
he was kept in confinement, at his own request, till
he could disprove the charges brought against him.
If OTlogherty had been left to himself, he might possibly
ha\e remained a loyal subject. Unluckily, he fell under the
influence of the wily and unscrupulous Neill Garve,
intnguei of whose laiids lay to the south of his own territory.
Neill Garve had never forgiven the Government for
preferring Rory O’Donnell to himself, and he was now more
than ever exasperated at the discovery that the Deputy showed
no signs of any desire to obtain for him the earldom which w'as
once more vacant. He stirred up the excitable nature of
O’Dogherty,^ who was vexed at the insult which he had received
1 This charge was only supported by one document, in the body of
which he was st)led The O’Neill, though in his signature he used the name
of Tyrone.
Davies to Salisbury, Jan. 6, i6o8, R-is/i Cal. ii. 517.
3 Chichester to the Council, Feb. ii, Chichester to Salisbury, Feb.
17, 1608, ibid. ii. 542, 568.
* These and other statements relating to Neill Gaive’s proceedings
rest upon the depositions enclosed in Chichester’s ktter to Salisbury^
Oct. 31, 1609, Ifish Cal. hi. 513.
424
THE PLANTATION OF ULSTER.
CH. X.
from Paulet, and was displeased that Chichester had thought
it necessary to require him to give bonds for his appearance.
At the same time, Phelim Reagh, O^Dogherty’s foster-father,
poured oil upon the flame : he had his own injuries to complain
of, having met with harsh treatment from the judges at the last
assizes.^
By the middle of April these evil counsellors had so far
wrought upon the high spirit of this ill-advised young man as
to persuade him to throw himself headlong upon the English
power. The most extraordinary thing about the enterprise was,
that no plan whatever was formed as to the measures to be
taken in the event of success. Probably all that O’Dogherty
thought of was the prospect of immediate revenge upon Paulet.
Neill Carve seems to have been filled with confidence that,
whatever happened, his wits would succeed in securing some-
thing for himself in the general confusion. For the present, he
contented himself with informing O’Dogherty that if he suc-
ceeded in surprising Derry, he would himself make an attempt
upon Ballyshannon.
The practised eye of Hansard, the Governor of Lifford,
perceived that something unusual was in pieparation. He,
Caution sent accordingly, put the town in a good state of defence,
to Paulet. and at the same time sent a warning to Paulet, to
which not the slightest attention was paid.^
The chief obstacle in the w'ay of the conspirators was the
O’Dogher- difficulty of obtaining arms. Since Chichester’s pro-
suirpnsbg"" clamation for a general disarmament, it was almost
impossible to procure w'eapons in quantities sufficient
to give to a rebellion the chances of even a momentary success.
O’Dogheity, however, knew that arms were to be obtained at
the fort of Culmore, which guarded the entrance to the Fo}le.
Such a prize could only be gained by stratagem. On
April 1 8, therefore, he invited Captain Hart, the commander
* Dillon to Salisbury, April 25, 1608, ibid. ii. 671.
2 The details of the sack of Derry are given by Chichester to the
Council, April 22, and Bodley to ? May 3, Irish Cal. ii. 662, 682.
See also the reports of Hart and Baker, enclosed by Chichester to the
Council, May 4, 1608, ibid, ii. 686.
i6o8
anOGHERTY^S RISING,
425
of the fort, to dine with him at his house at Buncrana. He
complained that the ladies of Derry looked down upon lady
O’Dogherty, who was in consequence deprived of all society
suitable to her rank; he hoped, therefore, that Hart would
bring his wife and children with him. The invitation was
accepted. As soon as dinner was over O’Dogherty led his
guest aside, and, after complaining of the Deputy’s conduct
towards him, said that as Chichester would not accept him as
a friend, he should see what he could do as an enemy. He
threatened Hart with instant death unless he would surrender
the fort. Hart at once refused to listen to such a proposal.
He stood firm against his wife’s entreaties, which were added
to those of Lady O’Dogherty. His host told him that his wife
and children should all perish if he persisted in his refusal, and
offered to swear that if the fort were delivered to him, not
a single creature in it should be hurt. Hart, like a sturdy
Englishman as he was, answered, ‘ that seeing he had so soon
forgotten his oath and duty of allegiance to ’ his ‘ Sovereign
Lord the King,’ he ‘should never trust oath that ever he made
again.’ He might hew him in pieces if he would, but the fort
should not be surrendered. Upon this O’Dogherty took Hart’s
wife aside/ and persuaded her without difficulty to second him
in a scheme which would enable him to get possession of the
fort without her husband’s assistance.
Towards the evening he set out with about a hundred men,
and arrived after nightfall at Culmore. As soon as he came
^ g close to the gate he sent the lady forward with one
Surprise of of his owu servauts. She cried out, according to her
Culmore. instructions, that her husband had fallen from his
horse and had broken his leg, and that he was lying not far off.
Upon this the whole of the little garrison rushed out to help
their captain. Whilst they were thus employed, O’Dogherty
quietly slipped in at the gate, and took possession of the
place.
Having thus obtained the amis of which he was in need, he
Capture of Derry. When he arrived at the bog by
Uerry. which the towii was separated from the adjoining
country, he divided his forces, and put one part under the
426
THE PLANTATION OF ULSTER.
CH. X.
command of Phelini Reagh. This division was to assault the
principal fort, which lay upon the hill, whilst O’Dogherty him-
self was to direct the attack upon a smaller fortification at the
bottom of the town, in -which the munitions were stored. Their
only chance of success lay in their finding the garrison off its
guard, as there were in the town a hundred soldiers, and an
equal number of townsmen were capable of bearing arms. It
was about two in the morning when the attempt was made.
Phelim Reagh succeeded in effecting an entrance, and at once
made for Paulet’s house. The Governor was roused by the
noise, and succeeded in making his escape to the house of one
of the other officers, where he was finally discovered and put
to death. After some fighting, all resistance was overcome in
this part of the town, and the buildings in the fort were set on
fire. The lower fort was seized by O’Dogherty with still less
difficulty. Lieutenant Baker, having been baffled in an attempt
to retake it, collected about one hundred and forty persons
— men, women, and children —and took possession of two
large houses, in which he hoped to be able to hold out till
relief reached him. At noon on the following day, provisions
running short, and O’Dogherty having brought up a gun from
Culmore, he surrendered, upon a promise that the lives of all
who were wdth him should be spared.
Neill Garve had sent sixteen of his men to join in the
attack. As soon as the place was taken, O’Dogherty, according
to agreement, sent him a part of the spoil. Neill Garve
^’^^tised to take it What he was anxious to obtain
ment. vvas a share of the arms, and he was disappointed
that none had been sent.
News of what had occurred soon spread over the country.
The little garrison of Dunalong at once retired to Lifford, and
its example was followed by the Scottish colony
at LiH’ord e- which occupied Strabane. With this assistance Han-
infoiced. made no doubt that he would be able to main-
tain himself at Lifford against any force which O’Dogherty
could send against him.
Whether Neill Garve was really offended with O’Dogherty,
or whether he was only anxious to keep well with both jrarties
OWOGBERTV^S RISING.
427
i6c8
it is impossible to say. It is certain that the first thing which
Kelli Garve ^ down and write to Chichester, re-
makes pro- questing him to give him the whole of the county
posaK to the
Govern- of Donegal lo this modest demand Chichester
replied by advising him to show his loyalty at once,
and to trust to him for the proper reward afterw^ards.
The Deputy saw the necessity of crushing the rebellion
before it had time to spread. He at once despatched the
Marshal Sir Richard Wingfield, into Ulster, with all
Wingfield , . 1 1 t 1 r
sent into the troops 'wliicli he was able to muster at the
moment, and prepared to follow with a larger force.
On Wingfield’s approach, O’Dogherty perceived that the game
was up, unless a general rising could be effected. He set fire
, to Derry, and, after leaving Phelim Reagh at Cul-
retiesti, lo more With thirty men, and throwing a garrison into
Doe Castle, Castle, he himself retired to Doe Castle, a fast-
ness at the head of Sheep Haven.
To O’Dcgherty’s honour it must be said, that his prisoners
were all released, according to promise. Excepting in actual
conflict, no English blood was shed in the whole course of the
rebellion.
On May 20, Wingfield arrived at Derry, and, finding it in
ruins, pushed on to Culmore. In the course of the night
Phelim Reagh set fire to the place, and, having embarked in
two or three boats all the booty he had with him, made his
jnuishowen Way to Tory Island. Wingfield proceeded to subject
Ey Wmg? Innishowen to indiscriminate pillage. ^ The cattle and
iidd. horses of the unfortunate inhabitants were carried
off, and were given to the townsmen of Derry, in compensation
for their losses.
Neill Garve, seeing that O’Dogherty w^as unable to make
Keiii Garve against the English, thought it wms time to
si.braitsto submit to the Government He accordingly came
n.eiit, but into Wingfield s camp, upon receiving a protection
c^SHith from the consequences of his past acts. He had not
O’Dogherty. before he sent to O’Dogherty,
* Enclosures in Cnichester’s letter lo the Council, May 4, 1608, S. P,
Ircl,
428
PLANTATION OF ULSTER,
cn, X.
assuring him that he need not despair, as the forces sent
against him were by no means strong. He told him that he
had himself only submitted to necessity, and that he was in
hopes that arms w^ould be put into the hands of himself and
his followers, in which case he would take the earliest oppor«
tunity of deserting.
Wingfield was only waiting for munitions to lay siege to Birt
Castle. In the meanwhile he received intelligence
Attempt to , . , *111 -KT Ml
capture which gave him hopes of capturing the rebels. Neill
fVuSeT^ Carve, however, sent information to O^Dogherty of
the plan of the English commander, and the attempt
treachery.
Not long afterwards the traitor left the camp, and betook
himself to unadvised courses, which quickly drew upon him
Arrest of suspicions of the Marshal. He took great
Meiii Garve. numbers of O’Dogherty's followers under his pro-
tection, and plundered those who had submitted to Wingfield.
Nor did he stop here. He presumed himself to summon the
inhabitants of the whole county to join him, as if he had been
lord of the entire inheritance of the O’Donnells.^ He com-
manded that all men who had ever carried arms should, when
they answered his summons, provide themselves with arms
under pain of a fine. This was too much for the Marshal’s
patience. As his former treachery was now beginning to ooze
out, he was immediately arrested, and sent a prisoner to the
Deputy.
O’Dogherty’s case was now hopele.ss. He was unable to
cope with Wingfield, and Chichester’s forces would soon be
, added to those of the Marshal. One desperate
O'Dogherty , , , . , , , ^ ,
defeated and attempt lie made to break through the toils, pcrhai)s
slain. • 1 r V* 1 ’ f . ^
in the hope of exciting a more widely spread insur-
rection. With four hundred men he made his way across
Ulster, and surprised and set fire to the little town of Clinard,
in the neighbourhood of Armagh. But here he found that his
way was barred by Chichester’s cavalry, and there was nothing
to be done but to attempt a hopeless retreat to Doe Castle,
Bishop of Derry to Chichester, June 15, Fis/i. Cal. ii. 782.
DEATH OF QDOGHERTY.
429
i6c8
the only place where it was any longer in his power to obtain
even a temporary shelter, as Birt Castle, in which his wife, his
daughter, and his sister were, had fallen into the hands of the
English.^ It was all to no purpose : he never reached the
place of safety. On July 5, as he w'as approaching Kilma-
crenan, a small place about six miles to the north-west of
Letterkenny, he found Wingfield stationed across his path.
The English immediately commenced the attack, though their
numbers were considerably inferior to his.^ The Irish were
completely routed, and O’Dogherty himself was slain. It was
better so, than that he should have met the fate of a traitor.
Nothing good could ever have come of his rash and ill-timed
rebellion. But he was not a mean and treacherous enemy, like
Neill Garve. Under other circumstances he might have lived
a useful, and even a noble, life. He had set his life upon the
throw ; but it is impossible not to feel compunction in reading
the Deputy’s letter, in which he announces that, the body of
the man who had spared the prisoners of Derry having been
taken, he intended to give orders that it should be quartered,
and the fragments set up on the walls of the town where he
had shown an example of mercy to a conquered enemy.
Of his followers, some of those who could not escape were
hanged at once by martial law^ and some were reserv^ed for
trial.® Amongst the latter w^ere Phelim Reagh and one of
O’Cahan’s brothers, both of whom were executed. Two days
O’Hanlon O’Dogherty’s defeat, his brother-in-law, Oghie
rebels. Qgg Q’Hanlon, went into rebellion with a hundred
men, but was speedily overpowered. One sad scene has been
handed down to us from the history of this abortive attempt at
insurrection, such as must often have occurred in these horrible
Irish wars. A poor woman, w^e are told, ^ was found alone by
^ Chicheiter and the Irish Ccuncil to the Council, July 2, Irhh Cal.
ll 810. •
- Chichester to the Council, July 6, idtd. ii. 817. If the numbers are
correctly given, O’Dogherty must have had seven hundred men. As he
marched out with four hundred only, he must have gathered followers on
his way. The English numbers are given at three hundred.
• Chichester to the Council, Aug. 3, jM. iii. 7.
430
THE PLANTATION OF ULSTER.
CH.
an Irish soldier, who .... stripped her of her apparel,’ and
left her ‘ in the woods, where she died the next day of cold
and famine, being lately before delivered of a child.’ ^
The employment of treachery by the English commanders
is even more repulsive than a casual act of cruelty. Where-
ever any of the rebels were still to be found in arms, Chichester
allowed it to be understood that he would pardon no man un-
less he could show that he had put some of his comrades to
death.2
One of the escaped bands had taken refuge on Tory Island.
Sir Henry Foliot, who was sent in pursuit, found that they
had all fled, except a constable and thirteen warders.
August. offered to spare the constable if he would
Twy Island hours deliver up the castle on the
^ ^ ' island with the heads of seven of his companions,
amongst whom was to be a certain M‘Swyne. While this
negotiation was going on, one of the English officers was,
by Foliot’s orders, dealing with M'Swyne to kill the con-
stable and some of the others. “So,” wrote Foliot coolly
to Chichester, “ they departed from me, each of them being
well assured and resolved to cut the other’s throat. By ill
hap, within the time appointed, it was the constable’s for-
tune to get the start of the others, who killed two of them.
Presently the rest of them fled into the island, hiding them-
selves among the rocks and clefts, which, after the break of
day, I caused them to look for, and gave them two hours for
the bringing in of their heads without the assistance of any of
the soldiers ; otherwise their own were like to make up the
number promised by them ; and, after a little search, they
found three of them in a rock. The passage to it, in every
man’s opinion, was so difficult that I had well hoped it would
have cost the most of their lives ; but the constable, with the
first shot he made, killed the principal ; the other two men ran
away toward us, the one of them promising some service, which
I inquired of and found little matter in it, so delivered him
‘ Davies to Salisbury, Aug. S, Irish Cal iii. 15.
“ Chichester to the Council, Sept. 12, ibid. iii. 40.
r6o8
THE TORY ISLAND MASSACRE,
45J
again to the constable to be hanged ; and as he was leading
him to the execution, the desperate villain, with a skean he bad
secretly about him, stabbed the constable to the heart— who
never spake word— and was after by the other cut in pieces
himself with the other three, and so there were but five that
escaped. Three of them were churls, and the other tw^o young
boys.” ^ That an English officer could originate such a tragedy,
and calmly recount it afterwards, goes far to explain why it was
that even the efforts made by the Government in favour of the
natives did not go far to win the Celtic heart from their own
chieftains.
It was not till June 1609 that Neill Garve was brought to
trial. The evidence against him was irresistible ; but his neck
June, 1609. was saved by the old difficulty. Before the verdict
otne’s given it came to the knowledge of the court that
the jurors would never convict the lord of their own
country. Upon this an excuse was found for stopping the
He and trial. ^ The prisoner was sent to England, together
O’Cahan. They were both detained in prison
England, till they died, in spite of their complaints of the
illegality of such treatment.
When O^Dogherty’s rebellion had been crushed, all possi-
bility of resistance was for the present at an end. The English
Prosnectsof Government had only to consider what use they
the future. <yvould make of their conquest. It was necessary to
take some steps for the settlement of Ulster, On the spirit in
which the new system was introduced would depend the pro-
spects of Ireland for centuries. The temper of the native
population was such as to promise well for the success of any
experiment which might be introduced by a ruler who combined
a practical knowledge of the circumstances of the country with
a statesmanlike appreciation of the wants of the people with
whom he had to deal. The recollection of the harshness of
Blnglish rule, indeed, continued to form a baixier between the
Government and a great part of the inhabitants of Ireland, and
' Foliot to Chichester, Sept. 8, Irish Cal iii. 54.
® Davies to Salisbury, June 27, ibid, iii. 398.
432
PLANTATION OF ULSTER.
CH. X
CO hinder any sudden loosening of the ties which had united
the people to their chiefs. But, though signs were not w^anting
that those ties were not as binding as they had once been, the
task was one of no slight difficulty. Even if Chichester’s plan
of treating the Irish of Ulster with justice and libeiulity in the
distribution of land had been followed out, no action of the
Government could have checked the daily insults of the English
population, arrogantly conscious of superiority to a despised
lace. The spirit which made possible the brutalities of Tory
Island could not be allayed by any Government, how'cver wise.
If any Englishman could conduct the settlement of Ulster
to a profitable end, it was Chichester. On October 14, he
placed some notes on the condition of the six escheated
counties of Tyrone, Donegal, Coleraine, Armagh, Fermanagh,
and Cavan, in the hands of Sir James Ley and Sir John Davies,
the Irish Chief Justice and Attorney-General, who were to visit
1608. England in order to lay the ideas of the Irish
Government before the English Privy Council at a
Ulster. consultation in London, in which tliey had been
summoned to take a part.^ In these notes the Dejmty entered
at length into the character and circumstances of the principal
natives, and concluded by recommending, as he had already
done by letter, that they should be satisfied with grants of land.
When that had been done, and the officers who were to
head the settlements, which were virtually to act as garrisons
for the country, had also received their shares, whatever re-
mained undisposed of might be thrown open to English and
Scottish colonists.
On their arrival, Ley and Davies were directed to join with
Sir Oliver St. John, Sir Henry Doewra, Sir Anthony St Leger,
Commission Sir James Fullerton, in drawing up a plan for
in London, propcsed colonisation, or, as it was called, the
plantation of Ulster. On December 20, these commissioners
jiroduced a scheme for the settlement of the county of Tyrone,*
and, at no long interval, they extended its principles to embrace
’ Chichester’s instrvetiors, Oct. 14, 1608, Iris/i Cal. iii. 97,
* Keport of the Commission, Dec. 20, LM CaL iii. 202.
i6o9 rival plans OF COLONISATION
433
the whole of the six counties.* In many respects their sugges-
tions were notunlike those which had been made by Chichester.
1609. They proposed, as he had done, that the newinha-
betweln^^ bitauts of Ulster should be composed of the retired
Sid’t&f military servants of the Crown, and of
Chichester. English and Scottish colonists. But whilst Chichester
would have treated with the Irish as being the actual possessors
of the soil, and would only have admitted the colonists after
the bargain with the natives had been completed, the Commis-
sioners were ready to look upon the map of the North of Ireland
as if it had been a sheet of white paper, and to settle natives and
colonists in any way which might appear at the time to be most
convenient They were all men who knew Ireland well ; but
the question was one of that kind which demands something
more than personal knowledge of a country. Of the part which
each of them took in the production of the scheme there is no
evidence whatever, but the error which was committed was so
precisely of the kind which was likely to proceed from Davies,
that it is difficult to avoid the conclusion that it is principally
to him that the mischief is to be traced.
No doubt the plan of the Commissioners was attended by
considerable advantages- By bringing the Irish to inhabit
separate districts assigned to them by the Government, they
would be withdrawn from those defensible positions which
might prove formidable in case of another outbreak.
Of still greater importance was it to leave a con-
sioners. tinuous tract of land for the sole use of the English
colonists, whose safety would be endangered if their posses-
sions were intermingled with those of the Irish, who were
little disposed to look with favour upon the intruders on
their native soil. But all these arguments were as nothing in
the face of the manifest injustice of tearing away a whole popu-
lation from its homes. The one hope for Ireland was that the
Irish themselves should learn that it was possible to regard the
Government with loyalty. Whatever mistakes had been com-
’ A project for the division of the escheated counties, Jan. 23, IrisA
Cal. iii, 244,
VOL. I. F F
434 the plantation OF ULSTER, CH. x.
mitted during the first five years of James’s reign, the policy
adopted by Chichester had been, at all events, such as to foster
the notion that his aim was the protection of the native popu-
lation against the exorbitant power of their own lords. What-
ever good-will may have been won in this way was lost for ever
if the scheme of the Commissioners should be adopted. It
was not as if the land question had concerned the prominent
chiefs alone ; in spite of all the practical oppression which had
been exercised, no idea was more strongly rooted in the Irish
mind than that the land was the property, not of the chief, but
of the sept ; and that the poor were equally interested with the
rich in defending the tenure of the soil. With a little manage-
ment and fair dealing, such a feeling would probably have
passed away before the softening influence of increased material
prosperity. But a forcible removal of a whole population could
only be regarded as a violation of its dearest rights. The
poorest herdsman who wandered after his cattle over the bogs
and mountains would treasure up in bis heart the remembrance
of the great cor^ffscatron which bad robbed him of the lands of
his ancestors, and had placed them at the feet of the stranger.
It is not too much to say that upon this apparently simple
question the whole of the future fate of Ireland depended.
Its extreme ^01 whcB once that decisioii was taken, there would
importance. jjq possibility of drawing back. If the plan of the
Deputy were carried out, Ireland would be left, in the main, to
its own inhabitants, and the English Government would have
limited its interference to that salutary control and education
which a more advanced race is capable of exercising over
another in a more backward condition. If, on the other hand,
the scheme of the Commissioners were adopted, Ulster was
inevitably doomed to a confiscation which would hand it over to
an alien race ; here, too, as in some other parts of Ireland, there
would be a chasm which nothing could bridge over between
the old and the new possessors of the soil. The religious dif-
ferences, which, under other circumstancevS, as the Government
grew wiser with the course of time, would cease to trouble it,
would become the watchwords of the opposing races, which
would learn to hate one another with a hatred greater than
i6og
BACON’S ADVICE,
435
even that to which theological rancour can give birth. In the
midst of the strife the government itself would deteriorate.
Those who from time to time exercised its powers would be
more than human if they were able to mete out indifferent*
justice, between Protestant Englishmen and men of an alien
race, whose religion they detested, and whose submission was
to be secured by force alone, excepting at the price of
sacrifices which they were unwilling, and probably unable,
to make.
Nothing of all this was foreseen by the well-meaning men
who had been employed to draw up the regulations for the
Bacon’s future colony. Nor was either James or Salisbury
likely to come to their help. Even the man of trans-
land. cendent genius who was ready to give his advice
upon the subject failed to grasp the real bearings of the case.
Bacon had long cast his eyes with sorrow and impatience upon
the distracted condition of Ireland. The work of reducing it
to civilisation was more likely to enlist his sympathies than
even the Union with Scotland or the abolition of feudal tenures
in England. Above all things he hated anarchy, and the pro-
posed enterprise was welcome to him as the heaviest blow
which had yet been dealt to the chronic anarchy of Ireland.
By the side of such a work as this, he himself has told us,
he looked upon the Virginian colony as upon the romantic
achievements of Amadis de Gaul when compared with the
deeds related in Caesar’s Commentaries.
A few days after the first report of the Commissioners was
ready. Bacon drew up,^ on the subject which had been
His treatise Occupying his mind, a short treatise, which he pre-
tation 0?^’ sented to the King as a New Year’s gift.^ As is the
Ulster. case with everything else which proceeded from his
pen, the few pages of which it consisted teem with lessons of
practical wisdom. On every point upon which he touched he
had something to say which deserved the attention even of
those who were immediately familiar with the country of which
^ LeiUrs and Life^ iv. Ii6.
2 Bacon to the King {ihU. iv. 114)
F F3
THE PLANTATION OF ULSTER,
Cii. X,
he was writing. But that which, at this distance of time,
strikes the reader far more than the insight into the facts of
the case which he displayed, is the complete absence of the
' slightest allusion to the feelings and wishes of the native popu-
lation, or to the not improbable consequences of the dislike
with which they would be certain to regard the intruders.
Where a modern writer would see a wild independence which,
if once it were trained to obedience, would form the surest
foundation for liberty, Bacon saw nothing more than the
anarchy which actually prevailed; and with his exaggerated
faith in the power of government to educe order out of con-
fusion by regulative measures, he left James and his adviseis
without a word of warning.
If it was unfortunate that Bacon should have failed to point
out the way to better things, it was no less unfortunate that
Chichester, who alone had the wisdom to lecommend
viewsonThe the adoption of a juster system, should have been
question, i^tiuenced merely by motives of practical expediency.
It was not to the future embarrassments of his successors that
he was looking when he drew up his scheme : it was only the
present difficulty of removing the septs which had deterred
him from adopting the view which had found favour in London.*
But he took care to remind the Commissioners that the Irish
were certain to put forward claims which were disregarded in
the new scheme, and he informed them that he had himself
ordered the publication in Tyrone of the King’s intention
to settle all the principal men in competent freeholds if they
could give assurance of their loyalty.®
According to the scheme of the Commissioners, the portions
^ “ Now you must note that many of the natives in each county do
claim freehold in the lands they \iO%sess, and albeit their demands are not
justifiable by law, yet is it hard and almost impossible to displant them ;
wherefore I wish that a consideration may be had of the best and chief of
them, albeit they were all in Tyrone’s last rebellion, and have now hearts
and minds alike.”— Chichester’s instructions, Oct 14, 1608, IrisA Cal.
Hi. 97i
Chichester to the Privy Council, March 10, 1609, i 6 id, iii. 292,
j6o9 the scheme OF THE COMMISSIONERS. 437
mto which the escheated lands were to be divided were to
Ca^n. different sizes — of one thousand, fifteen
hundred, and two thousand acres respectively.^ Each
of the Com- . i m j i • ^
missioners' proprietor was to build on his estate either a castle
sc eme. ^ wallcd enclosure, with or without a stone house^
according to the amount of land he held. The English and
Scottish undertakers, to whom the greater part of the land was
assigned, were to be prohibited from alienating their lots to
Irishmen, or from permitting any native to hold land under
them. On the land assigned to the officers, a certain number
of Irish were permitted to remain, but for the most part they
were to be banished either to the portions assigned to the land-
owners of their own race, or to desolate regions in other parts
of Ireland.
The coioni- Originally intended that the colonists
mioTi ^ should present themselves in Ireland at Midsummer
1609, but it was found necessary to defer the com-
mencement of the undertaking till the following year.^ Some
of the provisions of the scheme had been found to be dis-
tasteful to those who were likely to give in their names, and it
was proposed to alter the arrangements in these respects. Time
’ The following is the proposed division according to the second report
of the Commission.
The calculation is given in acres 't—
English and Scotch
Servitors
Irish
Tyrone .
. 45,000 .
. 14,000 .
10,000
Coleraine .
. 15,000 .
. 1,500 .
6,500
Donegal .
. 47,000 .
. 10,000 .
18,500
Fermanagh
. —
. 4,500 .
8,500
Cavan .
. 8,000 ,
, 8,000 .
16 500
Armagh ,
. 35.000 .
• ^>500 •
10,000
150,000
45.500
70,00c
According to the Muster Roll presented by Mr. Gilbert {A Contemporary
History of Affairs in Ireland^ i. 332), these six counties when settled pro-
duced from amongst the colonists, a muster of 7,336 armed men, which
in a settled county would imply a population of ab'iut 29,000. As, how-
ever, there would be few aged persons amongst them, it would hardly be
safe to reckon more than 20,000.
Reasons proving that the deferring of the Plantation is most con
venient. May, Irish Cal. iii. 326.
138
PLANTATION OF ULSTER.
CH. X.
w'as also required for surveying the country, for tracing out the
lands for the officers’ settlements, and for removing the native
population.
In the course of the summer, Chichester, accompanied by
a large number of the members of the Irish Privy Council, went
Surveyor ^<^wn as Commissioners to carry out the intended
the lands, survcy.^ The surveyors were accompanied at every
step of the way by a guard, having a lively recollection that the
inhabitants of Tyrconnell had, a few years previously, cut off
the head of a certain Berkeley, who had been sent down to
survey the district. On this occasion, however, the Deputy’s
force was so overpowering that no resistance was attempted.^
During the ensuing winter, Chichester had time to think
over the results of his experience. In a paper which he drew
up for the information of the Home Government, he
ChichestWs again urged the necessity of making sufficient pro-
settlement of vision for the Irish. If he had relinquished the plan
tiie natives. satisfying the natives before the admission of the
colonists, he was still anxious that they should be treated with
as much fairness as was compatible with the destiny which had
been assigned to them, in order that as little room as was pos-
sible might be left for complaint^ The English Government,
unhappily, had lost all sense of feeling for the natives. In the
preceding summer they had ordered the levy of several hundreds
' to serve in the Swedish wars. No doubt there were many
turbulent persons in the north of Ireland whom it would be
difficult to induce to settle down under peaceful conditions.
But in expressing a wisli that as many natives as possible might
be ‘vented out of the land,’ they gave evidence of a temper
which was not likely to help them to govern Ireland well^
When the summer of i6io came, the Deputy once more
* The King to Chichester, June 30. Chichester to Salisbury, July 18,
Irish Cal. iii. 406, 432.
Davies to Sali.sbuiy, Aug. 28, ibid. iii. 471.
® Certain considerations touching the Plantation, by Sir A. Chichester,
Jan. 27, ibid. iii. 587,
^ The Council to Chichester, Aug. 3, 1609, ibid. iii. 454.
THE REMOVAL OF THE IRISH
itio
4 39
proceeded to the north. He first went into Cavan, where he
He goes into ^^und that the Irish had procured the services of a
Ulster in lawyer from the Pale to urge their claims. This man
Older to , . ,
remove the argued that, m reality, the land was the property of
the native holders, and asked to have the benefit of
the proclamation which Chichester had published soon after
his accession to office, in which a declaration had been made
that the lands and goods of all loyal subjects would be taken
under His Majesty’s protection. Davies met him with the
ready answer, that the Irish holdings gave no ownership which
the law could recognise. To this was added the extraordinary
argument, that they could not possibly be considered as having
any hereditary title ; in the first place, because ‘ they never
esteemed lawful matrimony to the end they might have lawful
heirs : ’ and, in the second place, because ‘ they never built any
houses, nor planted any orchards or gardens, nor took any care
of their posterities — both which they would have done if they
had had estates descendible to their lawful heirs.’ As a natural
consequence, they had no lands to which the proclamation
could apply. ^ Davies does not inform us wffiat effect this
miserable reasoning had upon the Irish; but there can be
little doubt that the presence of the Lord Deputy and his troops
was far more effectual than the logic of the Attorney-General.
In Fermanagh and Donegal there was little remonstrance,
but in the other three counties the Deputy found it by no
means easy to effect his purpose. There is something
cuities. very touching in the tone of the letter in which he
gave an account to Salisbury of his difficulties. He writes as a
man who sees that his wisest schemes have been ruined by the
folly of others, but who is at the same time prepared to do his
duty unflinchingly, and to make the most of that which others
had done their best to mar. Two years before ^ he had thought
of little more than of the difficulties of overcoming resistance
if he were compelled to deal harshly with the natives. He
had now learned to syihpathise with them. The Irish, he writes,
1 Davies to Sa’isbury, Sept. 24, IrJsA Cal. iii. 874, and printed in Sir
T. Davies’s 7 rads,
P. 436.
440
THE PLANTATION OF ULSTER,
C'H. X.
are discontented. They were nearly ready to have left their
barbarous habits and to have submitted themselves loyally to
the King, But the land which had been assigned to them was
insufficient for their maintenance, and the golden opportunity
of winning their hearts had been lost. Chichester felt deeply
the injury thus done to Ireland, and was almost inclined to
fancy that the blunder of the Commissioners had arisen from
ill feeling towards himself.^
The effects of this disastrous policy were not long in
manifesting themselves. So general was the discontent that
Discontent Chichester found it necessary, upon his return to
in Ulster. Dublin, to leave behind him double garrisons in the
fortresses by which the northern province was commanded.^
’ < The natives of these counties ... are generally discontented and
repine greatly at their fortunes, and the small quantifies of land left unto
them upon the division, especially those of the counties of Tyrone,
Armagh, and CJeraine, who having reformed themselves in their habit
and course of life beyond others, and the common expectation held of
them (for all that were able had put on English apparel and did promise
to Jive in townreds, and to leave their creaghting\ did assure themselves
of better conditions from the King’s Majesty than those they lived in under
their former landlords, but now they say they have not land given them,
nor can they be admitted tenants, which is more grievous unto them. I
have both studied and laboured the reformation of that people, and could
have prevailed with them in any reasonable matter, though it were new
unto them ; but now I am discredited among them, for they have far less
quantities assigned unto them in those counties than in the other three ;
in which the Commissioners . . . were, in my opinion, greatly overseen,
or meant not well unto me ; for to thrust the servitors with all the natives
of a whole county which payed the King near 2,000/. rent yearly, into
little more than half a barony (as in Tyrone) was a great oversight, if not
out of ill-meaning. If I speak somewhat feelingly in this particular, it is
to your Lordship to whom I must and will appeal when I conceive I
suffer wrong, in which T humbly beseech your Lordship to excuse me, for
I have some reason to doubt the affection of some of those Commissioners
towards me, though I never deserved ill at their hands, and I humbly pray
your Lordship that I may not be guided by any direction of others, for
they know not Ireland so well as I do, especially Ulster, nor do they wish
better to the good and prosperity thereof, nor to the advancement of the
King’s profit and service. ’—Chichester to Salisbury, Sept. 27, Msh CaL
iii. 876.
® Chichester to the Council, Sept 27, 1610, ibid, iii. 878.
i6ii MATERIAL PROSPERITY OF ULSTER. 441
During the course of the next year some progress was made
in the colonisation of the country. Of the undertakers some
indeed never came near the lands which had been
^Progress of allotted to them, but there were others who entered
heartily upon the enterprise. When in the summer
months Lord Carew, the former President of Munster/ came
over to report on the condition of the country, he found the
busy sound of the forge and the mill in many a spot where
such sounds were heard for the first time. Schools and
churches were springing up. The City of London had taken
in hand the settlement of Derry, which was now to be re-
built under the name of Londonderry, and to give its name
to the county in which it stood, and which had hitherto
been known as the county of Coleraine. To all appearance the
change was for the better; but the disease was too deeply rooted
to be removed by such signs of outward prosperity. For the
present, indeed, all was quiet Feeling that resistance was
hopeless, those among the Irish to whom lands had been
assigned had removed sullenly to their scanty possessions. ^
But the mass of the inhabitants remained in their own homes.
They made themselves too useful to be removed, and by per-
mission or by connivance the arrangement for the separation
of the two races was broken through. They remained to
feel that they were in bondage to an alien race. They knew
that they were despised as barbarians by men who had robbed
them of their lands. There was not an Irishman who plied his
daily task for his English or Scottish employer who did not
cherish in his heart the belief that he and his were the true
lords of the soil, and who did not look forward with hope to
the day when the great O’Neill should return from his wander-
ings, and should give back the land to those to whom it of
right belonged.
* Report, Jan. 29, 42.
2 Chichester to Cal. iii. 92S.
SJ>oiiiswoode Co. Lid., Printers^ New-street Square^ London.
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